


Life Goes On

by Squeeb100



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, E G G B A B E, F/M, Family, Future Fic, Gen, Mild Sexual Content, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, POV Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon), Pregnancy, Reunions, dad!hiccup, dad!toothless, events are parallel but not simultaneous, in this household we really push the boundaries on how long a vignette can be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeeb100/pseuds/Squeeb100
Summary: “It’s hard, I know. I can’t imagine what I’ll do without Cloudjumper. But life-”“Life goes on,” he finished, smiling more fully and pressing his hand over hers.A series of parallel "vignettes" occurring as Hiccup and Toothless adjust to life without each other, leading their tribes and building families independently. The events in individual chapters are parallel, but not necessarily simultaneous; the story from one POV could be occurring years before or after the other.Chapter 8: Light Fury and Astrid each have a close call. The Hofferson-Haddock family welcomes a new member.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I write dragons this whole fic is based heavily on how Le'letha does in her Nightfall fics, but I've certainly altered it to how I would characterize animals. I really admire their work and would highly recommend checking them out! But inspiration for the way I convey the dragons' "speech" is 100% them.

Toothless knew, as he turned away, that he wasn’t ever going to see his human again. And he chuffed and whined just to let Hiccup know that he was very sad to leave. But he was also very excited. He had his mate and his flock, and every dragon was his flock, and as he looked at his human, he knew he felt the same way. He was leaning on his mate, the Nadder’s human (who Hiccup called Astrid), because his leg fell off with the bad man, and his eyes were leaking like they did when he was upset. But Toothless knew his human was going to be alright, even without a strong dragon to protect him, because he had his family. So it was with both sadness and joy that he trilled a final goodbye to his best friend and leaped off the cliff into the wind.

His wings caught the cool evening air marvelously, and he relished the feeling of being able to furl and unfurl his own tailfins. But he noticed the absence of the comforting pressure of his human at the base of his neck, missed their banter and the connection he had felt at needing another being so intimately. Toothless already missed how he and his human worked together to fly, whistling over ocean and islands. 

_ Hello hello mate,  _ his mate (Lightfury, the humans had called her) trilled in greeting, dropping down to glide above him.  _ Okay? _

_ Okay. Okay?  _ He had been so worried for her when they were bound up in traps, when the bad man took aim at his beautiful mate. But she was alright, and when he got hurt he saved her, and when his human fell she saved him. 

_ Okay,  _ she confirmed.

_ Love love love,  _ Toothless purred as they flew. He had never felt about anyone the way he felt about his mate. Maybe Hiccup, but even then, these feelings were new. It was the same close, needing connection which left him frantic when they were apart, coupled with the admiration of her beauty and grace. This, and the knowledge that when the time came, they would mate and lay eggs in their Home. 

A warm feeling like fire swelled up in his chest as he thought about Home. He had never been there before his mate showed him, but he had known instantly that it was Home. And he was going there with his mate and his flock, and he would be alpha. Remembering his flock, he looked about. Dragons of all sizes speckled the air around him, and he knew each of them by scent. All the dragons from the Human Place were there, and his closest flock stayed nearby. He could smell the Zippleback ahead and to the left, and saw the Nightmare and the Gronckle flying close together from the corner of his eye.

He made a greeting noise as the blue Nadder, who the humans called Stormfly, flew up alongside him, spines slightly ruffled.  _ Sad,  _ she squawked. Toothless chirred his sympathy. Of course she was feeling the same way about her human as he did about his. 

_ Sad,  _ he agreed.  _ But excited!  _

_ Where are we going? _

_ Home! _

_ Human Place home?  _ Stormfly cocked her head, confused. She had been in the Human Place for a long time, since before Toothless met his human. And she had never been to that place under the ocean. She didn’t know about it yet, and the thought of showing her made his heart swell with excitement.

_ No,  _ he rumbled.  _ Dragon Home.  _

She made a questioning noise and the Gronckle, Meatlug (a silly name, Toothless had always thought, but she was a silly dragon) hovered over curiously.

_ Where are we going?  _ She asked.

_ Dragon Home,  _ Stormfly replied. 

_ Not Human Place? _

_ No,  _ Toothless replied. He was beginning to think the other dragons hadn’t quite caught on yet.  _ No more human place.  _

_ My human?  _ Meatlug asked.

_ No more,  _ Toothless replied patiently. The Gronckle was a little slow, but very warm-hearted. She loved her human almost as much as Toothless loved his, he was sure, so he humored her.

_ Dragon Human?  _ The Gronckle followed. This was the name of Toothless’ human, the human alpha. The other humans called him Hiccup. Toothless did not know what that name meant, and there wasn’t any way to tell the other dragons that this was what to call him. To them he was the Dragon Human. Most of the dragons liked him, even if they were a little worried at first.

_ No more,  _ he said. Then,  _ sad sad.  _

_ No more humans? _

_ Sad sad,  _ he agreed.  _ No more humans.  _

_ Why sad?  _ His lovely mate asked, her gentle mews warming his chest. He always forgot that his mate did not know the kind humans his flock did. She was frightened of them, as he had once been, because she only knew the bad man.  _ Humans hurt. Humans bad.  _

_ Not Dragon Human. Not my human,  _ Stormfly replied, then bragged.  _ My human is Dragon Human’s mate.  _ The Nadder was always preening. She was very clever and fast, and had many beautiful quills, and didn’t let anyone forget it. 

_ Dragon Human is your human?  _ Lightfury asked. 

Toothless purred in pride. She was very clever. It was his turn to preen, now.  _ Yes,  _ he agreed.  _ Dragon Human good human, clever human. Gentle with dragons. Gentle with humans.  _ His mate already knew these things, of course. She had met Hiccup.  _ Love love love,  _ he whined as he thought about his best friend, who he was leaving behind. 

_ It’s okay,  _ his mate told him.  _ Love love love. Go Home!  _

_ Yes!  _ He trilled.  _ Go Home!  _ He very much liked the idea of that. He was tired after his long day, and was excited about returning to the nest he and Lightfury were building. They had implemented many beautiful stones, as well as some soft things, to make a perfect place for sleeping. Some of the soft things had burned away when they’d fired it, but that was alright. He was excited to sleep there.

Their Home was big and wonderful and he couldn’t wait to show it to all his friends.

***

Watching Toothless leave was, without a doubt or exaggeration, the single most difficult thing Hiccup had ever done in his life. The six best years of his life had been spent with the dragons, and he was at a loss, briefly, for what to do. So he just leaned against Astrid, who was helpfully supporting his left side, and cried silently. He was happy for his friend, who had found a safe home and a loving mate. He loved the dragons, loved  _ Toothless,  _ and this was the right thing for them.

It hadn’t been meant to last forever.

Losing the dragons wasn’t the same loss as when his father had died. That had been utter, empty despair, the knowledge that from that moment on, his father’s strong, compassionate, brilliant soul had departed Midgard  _ forever.  _ This was...bittersweet. Toothless was  _ okay,  _ more okay than he’d been since Hiccup had shot him down all those years ago, and he was finally  _ free.  _ The dragon had never resented Hiccup for his captivity, and Hiccup honestly didn’t know if Toothless fully understood that he was to blame for his injury in the first place. He knew the dragon loved him. But he was meant to be with his own kind, to repopulate, to replace all the Furies Grimmel had slaughtered.

A few moments after the last speck disappeared into the blinding sunset, Astrid broke the silence.

“Are you okay?” She whispered. Her eyes were as red-rimmed as his felt, but she mustered a gentle smile.

“I will be. Are you?” Astrid nodded. Someone behind them was crying audibly, and Hiccup was reminded that he had a duty to do. These people were as traumatized and heartbroken as he was  _ (ripped away from their home),  _ and needed to return to the village. He motioned for Astrid to help turn them around to face the rest of the Berkians.

“Okay,” he tried to say, but it came out as a squeak. His throat was tight in a way that promised a truly spectacular crying fit, but it wasn’t welcome. He cleared his throat heavily. “Okay. We are on a cliff.” He had projected so most of the people could hear him, but it was dawning on him that he didn’t really know what he was supposed to say. “Releasing the dragons immediately was dramatic, but, in hindsight, ill-contrived.” He attempted to chuckle, but it kind of sounded like choking. “It’s probably several miles back to the village. We should head back and try to reach it before dark.”

Maybe they’d expected something more out of him; he caught Snotlout’s eye and saw the question in his arched eyebrow. Fishlegs’ face was open and sad. He shook his head tiredly. He didn’t have any profound words about loss to share. He just wanted to sleep.

“Should we carry these back?” Gobber asked, hoisting Grump’s old saddle over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised in question. 

“Yeah.” Ugh. “We can...repurpose them, for...something.” Internally, Hiccup was calculating how he was going to get down the hill to the village with one leg. Astrid would have to carry hers, of course, and he wasn’t letting someone carry  _ him,  _ which didn’t leave him with many options.

“I’ll take Astrid's,” Tuffnut offered, a bit louder than was normal even for him. There were tear tracks on his face. “I mean, since Ruff is obviously taking both of ours. I don’t have anything to carry. So really you’d be doing me a favor.” 

“Hey!” Ruffnut shouted, equally loudly. Her voice broke. “Why do I have to carry both?”

“Because I’m carrying Astrid's,” Tuffnut responded reasonably, walking over to pick Stormfly’s saddle up off the ground. His “beard” was gone, Hiccup noticed, replaced by two mangled braids which looked like they were trying to steal pieces of each other, clumps of hair sticking out in every direction.

“Thanks, guys,” Hiccup said. His voice sounded smaller than it had in a long time. He appreciated his help, and was almost surprised he'd even thought of it. 

He turned away from Tuffnut as he noticed Valka approaching from the corner of his eye. She looked wearier than Hiccup felt, and he worked to remember that the spry woman was twice his age, and had been with her dragon almost as long as he’d been alive.

She reached for his face hesitantly and he leaned into her palm with a watery smile. 

“Oh, Son,” she murmured, sympathetic green eyes meeting his. “It’s alright. They’re where they’re meant to be.” 

“I know,” Hiccup replied.

“It’s hard, I know. I can’t imagine what I’ll do without Cloudjumper. But life-”

“Life goes on,” he finished, smiling more fully and pressing his hand over hers. It was cold and bony, and so delicate he almost forgot how badly she could hurt him, had she wanted to. “I know. Thanks, Mom.” 

She nodded and smiled back at him. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do. And I love you too.”

“We should go,” Astrid interrupted awkwardly. “It’s getting late, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t trust myself to find the way back to New Berk in the dark.”

Valka grinned, her eyes wrinkling in the corners. “Right you are, Astrid. And lead the way, Hiccup.”

Hiccup nodded. “Alright, let’s move out,” he called to his people. They were going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I grew up with these movies (from age nine or ten but it counts shut up) and have always considered them favorites, but things lined up just so that I didn't actually really invest myself into the world until like a month ago, just before or right when THW was released (I didn't actually see THW until a week ago, when I got home for spring break). Welcome to my new hyperfixation, we're here, we're enjoying it, we watched all of RTTE in two weeks, but we're fine. We're adults here. Anyway, there's something super weird about at the same time leaving a 9-year era of my life behind and essentially having just discovered something before it ended. 
> 
> I think writing from Toothless' POV is really fun and immensely tricky. I practiced it a little bit before by rewriting the beginning of the first movie from his perspective (and if I finish it I'll post it). It's fun because it's somewhere right smack between writing a true animal POV and writing a human POV. It's real interesting and I hope it feels authentic enough to be believable. I am not myself a dragon, but I do spend a lot of time around animals and have done my best to write a cat/horse/dog/lizard/person hybrid. And I hope you know that these are five things which don't want to play nicely together as one being, lmao. 
> 
> ***I wanna say again to be safe that the inspiration for the way I write dragon thoughts and speech was Le'letha's Nightfall series, which is SO amazing I have so much love and respect for the way they write animals. I have tweaked it, of course, and I feel like the way I have dragons speak and think absolutely pales in comparison to the way they do it in some ways, but works better for me personally in a few ways as well. I just wanted to get it out there it's not like...the innovation of the century or anything but it's an amazingly clever way to write animal characters and I've taken heavy inspiration from it.***
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you really enjoyed (or if you really DIDN'T) and let me know how I did on characterization (I'm a little worried about the human characters but think I captured them okay. There's not much space to tell, of course). I don't know how long I will take to update because I am a) infamously flighty when it comes to personal projects, and b) returning to school on the day of Tomorrow and will be instead writing lots of really fun papers about the ancient Maya and Books I Had To Read For Classes. Demonstrating your enjoyment of the first chapter would probably make an update come much faster!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet, reflective times with our two lovely couples. Includes mutual grooming and playing with hair and only a little bit of crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know scaled reptiles don't shed like this, but it was a cool plot device to just have scales fall off in the movies so I moved forward assuming that dragons shed individual scales instead of their entire skin. It's still not very comfortable for the babies, though!

Home was very beautiful, Toothless thought as he weaved between the glowing pillars. He had never seen anything like the light the walls made, and he loved the way it made his flock glow colors he hadn’t known existed. Closing his eyes, he let out a happy little bark; he had discovered that it was fun to send his voice out and hear it echo off the glowing columns, turning them into a fun obstacle course to navigate.

It had been a while since they had left the humans behind, and Toothless had been sad as the last of Hiccup’s scent faded from him. The rest of his flock was sad too. Not even the Zippleback, who loved to play tricks, was in the same spirits as usual. But they all undeniably loved their new Home, and wouldn’t ever trade it for the human-made dens. Toothless knew he was one of the only dragons who had never, ever slept in a wooden dragon den, instead resting on a slab of rock in Hiccup’s den where he could listen to his human breathe at night. 

Now he lived in a proper den, carved into the base of the big shiny rock. There were little shiny rocks all around, and he and his mate had gathered the prettiest, roundest ones to make a good nest. They filled in the cracks with their scales and any soft things they could find, which burned to ash when they warmed the nest for sleeping.

As he alighted on the precipice outside his den, all Toothless’ remaining energy melted away. He’d had a long day of watching over the flock, making rounds of the territory, checking all the eggs, and making sure everyone knew when it was time to go out and hunt. Being an alpha was exhausting. But his stomach was full of good fish, and so was his mate’s, and every nesting dragon had brought back extra for their hatchlings. It was a very tiring job, but it was good, and he knew he was doing well as an alpha.      

Toothless heard his mate land gently behind him as he stretched and shook himself, wings suspended by his sides. He was in shed and itchy, and the shaking didn’t really help, but it was a satisfying thing to do before he padded into the den. He wasted no time lying down and stretching out on the cool floor. It wasn’t time for sleep yet, he felt, and the cool rock felt good against his scales, which currently felt irritated, hot and too close to his body. He gnawed on his front leg a little to dislodge a scale which he knew was coming loose.          

His mate followed him in, claws clicking lightly on the stone. She rubbed her cheek against his as she circled around to lay beside him with her head to his rump. He could feel the expansion of her chest against his flank as she breathed. It was a good feeling.          

 _Hello hello,_ he greeted her. _Groom?_

 _Groom groom,_ she cooed, reaching back to nibble gently at his hindquarters. The tugging at his scales was a bit odd as she shuffled through them with her teeth and tongue, looking for the ones which were ready to fall out. It was nice, though, the scraping of her teeth scratching his itches and the lapping of her tongue soothing his angry skin.          

 _Groom groom. Feels good,_ he encouraged her, then extended his own teeth to return the favor. She rolled onto her side and stretched one wing up into the air to let him get under it. She must have been particularly itchy there.          

He had to be very careful not to pull out any new scales; only the old ones, which were supposed to fall out on their own but sometimes needed a little help from a rub on the wall, a soak in the water, or a friend’s clever tongue. Luckily, the loose scales tended to fall out with only the gentlest nudge. It was also easy to tell them apart from the new scales because new scales were silky and smooth, not dry and worn out like old ones.       

 _Love love love,_ he mumbled absently in his throat as he worked. Grooming time was one of Toothless’ favorite times. It made him relax and relieved some of the stress and itching from a long day. He got to smell one of his favorite smells (hers, of course) and listen to her content noises. If something important had happened during the day, they could discuss it, but if nothing important happened, they could just lie down and let their teeth and tongues do the talking. Grooming another dragon was a very good way to say _I love you._

Toothless remembered how he used to groom his human. He didn’t think Hiccup really understood what the big deal was, but maybe that was because he didn’t have scales, usually (and when he did, they were the scales Toothless had shed. Humans really were strange). Hiccup had groomed Toothless, though, so maybe he did understand. Toothless knew the human and his mate sometimes groomed each other, like when she made his head-fur into pretty designs. She was almost as clever with her paws as him. A perfect mate.           

Toothless was very happy about his own mate. He chuffed at her to tell her so, and she echoed the sentiment. Stormfly had recently found a mate as well, a red Nadder who was even more vain than her. He knew someone was courting Meatlug, and that the Nightmare, who the humans had called Hookfang, was sending out mating calls. The Zippleback was having a particularly difficult time finding a mate; it was hard to find someone that both heads agreed on.           

Toothless thought it was very Good how many dragons were in his Home.          

His mate let out a little groan and then sneezed, shook her head and stood up to stretch. _Sleep sleep,_ she invited him, and he heaved himself to his feet.         

 _Sleep,_ he agreed, following her to the nest. She opened her jaws wide and blasted the nest with plasma, padding in circles to make sure the stones were evenly covered. Toothless added his own fire helpfully, and then they both kneaded the nest with their paws, sorting the rocks into order so they wouldn’t be too lumpy or poke them. Finally, his mate curled up with her nose under her tail, heaving a contented sigh; he confided to her that she was very beautiful and delicate, curled up with the warm glow from their den and the world outside reflecting off her white scales.

Then he carefully settled down beside her, curling around her back with his head near hers and his wing draped over hers. The nest was the perfect size for them, and pleasantly warm from their fire, and Toothless couldn’t help but feel that all was right with the world. _Love love love,_ he crooned.           

 _Love love love,_ she returned. _Sleep well._ She was purring gently and he listened as her breaths slowed down. It was not the same as listening to his human’s gentle sleeping, but it was the same feeling of having something to love and protect.         

 _Love love love,_ he murmured as he fell into sleep.

***

“Love you,” Astrid murmured, her voice sounding loud. They had lain in darkness, breathing heavily, for a few moments. The moon cast a beam of light through the window and across their bare chests.         

“Love you too,” Hiccup mumbled into her neck, then fell silent. The furs they were laying on were sweaty, and he considered changing them. No, he decided, this was too comfortable. If Astrid was bothered by it she could change them herself; he’d live.     

Their wedding had taken place on a bright day in late winter. They were the first couple to be wed in the new village, and the Chief and Chieftess to boot, so the celebration had lasted long into the night. They’d managed to escape briefly into solitude, but Fishlegs and the twins had eventually stampeded into their secluded meadow to inform them that everyone was waiting impatiently in the Meade Hall.         

There, they had feasted on the various delicacies the chefs had come up with (they’d been planning for weeks. They’d cycled through several recipe books borrowed from Fishlegs and settled on some traditional dishes mingled with some more exotic things, cooked with ingredients which had arrived on the trade ships) and had their fill of mead. Some had let loose a bit more than others; Snotlout and Eret drank themselves into a stupor on a bet, which benefited the twins more than either of them. Valka hadn’t had anything, claiming that she’d lost the taste for mead after twenty years spent without it.           

She had encouraged (read: obliged) Hiccup to dance with Astrid, and with her powers and Gobber’s combined they’d forced him into a downright terrible rendition of “For the Dancing and the Dreaming.” He hadn’t been sure Astrid would be receptive to it, but she’d been a covert romantic in the past and had responded in turn. Though the song was, in Gobber’s words, “an oldie but a goodie,” and everyone knew it, Hiccup associated it strongly with his father and had more than once needed to swallow against his tight throat.

Stoick had been looking forward to the wedding. He and Astrid were close, and he’d mentioned their betrothal nearly every day up until his death.         

Hiccup hoped Valhalla had viewing parties.         

His father’s absence hadn’t been the only painful or obvious one, however; despite the color and sound a group of happy Vikings were capable of producing, the celebration had been lacking, and the village felt empty. Hiccup loved Astrid more than anything, but she wasn’t his “second half” so much as Toothless had been. He knew she felt the same way about Stormfly. They’d requested their dragons be honored on their cloak clasps, and they had been, little Nadder heads and Night Furies curled up on their chests. Their dragons had been there in spirit, but, frankly, it wasn’t the way Hiccup had imagined it.         

“I miss him,” he whispered into his wife’s (wife’s!) neck, after a long silence.         

Astrid sighed and shifted, bringing her hand around his back to run through his hair. It was a familiar and comforting gesture, and he nuzzled in closer to her warmth.         

“I know you do,” she said, voice soft. “I miss them too. Gods, it was six years! I feel like it was so long ago that I was training to _kill_ dragons.”         

“Six years. Not so long ago I was still fumbling around Gobber’s forge, looking out the window at you and thinking, ‘wow. Those guys are really cool. I would kill to be like them.’”         

“And then you _met_ us.” He could hear the grin in Astrid’s voice.         

Hiccup echoed her laugh. “And then I met Toothless,” he corrected her. “And we dangled you around in the air a little bit and that’s all it took. Don’t know why I didn’t try that sooner.”         

She chuckled and continued to mess with his hair. As lighthearted as he tried to sound, however, the thought of the dragons always pulled open some huge, aching hole inside his chest. He’d had a year to mourn the loss of his father, but it had only been a moon since the dragons left. He’d been so busy before, with so much work to do and so much to look forward to, but in the evenings as he lay in bed it had really begun to settle in. The dragons were _gone._ He might never see them again. The beautiful, powerful creatures which had given him a purpose for the first time in his life had suddenly been ripped out of it. By necessity, but it hurt nonetheless.          

“It was the right thing to do,” Astrid reminded him softly.        

“I know it was,” Hiccup replied. “And that somehow makes it hurt worse. I-- for six _years_ I worked for that world, Astrid, and suddenly had to wake up and realize that I was _wrong._ I was endangering the dragons and our people and they were always meant to be _wild,_ and I trapped them.” He was crying into her neck now, and turned his head to burrow further away from the moonlight, to just be where it was dark and warm and safe.        

Astrid sighed. “They _chose_ to stay, Hiccup. You saved them. _You_ made peace between our races. How many dragons have we saved since you shot down Toothless? And don’t go into that, either, I know you’re still guilty about it. You were a dumb kid, and you were doing what we all wanted to do. _You_ took that mistake and made it something _amazing.”_         

“Do you think he would have stayed, if he knew?” Hiccup croaked.           

Astrid’s hand faltered briefly.           

“If he _knew_ that I was the one who shot him down, would he still have spared my life? Would he have saved me? Would he have _stayed?”_

A deep breath ruffled the hair on top of his head.           

“I don’t know,” Astrid finally said. “Maybe not initially. But I think, really, he _does_ know. He understands human speech, and we never _avoided_ talking about it.” She scooted away and rolled over to look him in the eye. “I tried to kill _Stormfly_ in dragon training, and she forgave me. You forgave me. Toothless _loves_ you, Hiccup.”   

“Do you--do you think they’ll forget us?” Looking up into her eyes was such a vulnerable feeling, and he fought the urge to shy away again.      

Astrid licked her lips and swallowed hard. “Maybe,” she murmured. “But wouldn’t you rather them forget us and live in the wild than be here and in danger from hunters like Viggo and Grimmel? You were right, they’re getting smarter--and becoming ruthless enough that the most brilliant plan might not even stop them. There was no other choice, Hiccup."      

He nodded. She was right, as always. “I love you,” he said again, sniffing.          

“It’s not gonna get easier. You know that better than I do. I’ve known death, but not of a close family member. You know how to mourn. You’re doing it already.”

"And it’s easier when we all mourn together,” he acquiesced. He heaved a sigh. “You’re so wise, my love,” he smiled, then yawned.         

“And you’re so warm-hearted.” She nuzzled up against his face. “We should do something to honor them,” she said. “Murals, or tapestries, or-”           

“Statues.”          

“You are _just_ like your father with the statues, aren’t you.”

“Do you think we made his statue big enough? It took a while...do you think we'd have time for dragon statues? It’ll be harder without Zipplebacks, but-”          

Astrid laughed. “Ruff and Tuff can do it anyway,” she said. “It’ll keep them out of trouble.”      

He released a breathy laugh. “I’ll bring it up with the council. With the houses progressing the way they are, we’ll need a new project soon.”           

“You know what else you need to do soon, is go to sleep. You’re exhausted,” Astrid admonished him, smoothing back his hair. “Think about it in the morning.”

“Oh, no, I’ll think about it now,” he teased. “Try and stop me. Try and stop the thinking.”

“Impossible,” she returned. Then she yawned, mouth stretching wide and eyes squeezing tight, which triggered him to yawn again as well. “I am going to sleep,” she said. “You are welcome to join me or not.”       

“Oh, well, when you put it that way…” he squirmed in closer to her and sighed. “I will see you in the morning.”     

The gentle huffs of her laughter tickled his neck as he closed his eyes.           

“Love you,” he whispered one more time as he settled down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! I know it hasn't been a full week since I posted the first chapter, but I have a few written ahead of time and was thinking that posting on Fridays would probably allow me to catch up to myself about when summer starts.
> 
> Thanks for reading, all! Leave kudos if you enjoyed, and let me know your thoughts if you've got ten extra seconds! It will make my day :)
> 
> EDITED: Removed the part about them building a statue of Stoick...rewatching the wedding scene and there was a Stoick statue right in there OOPS don't @ me


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The humans work to remember, while the dragons begin to forget. Rocks are involved.

After the many moons he had spent as alpha, Toothless was used to being abruptly woken. Sometimes there was a fight to break up, or an Earth Shake. Usually, though, it was just a member of his flock wandering in.

On that morning, it was a Gronckle. His most familiar Gronckle, who he had been on many adventures with in the past. She was chattering and hovering in circles, and he grumbled as he extricated his wings from his mate’s embrace and stretched.

 _What what is it,_ he grumbled, sitting down to scratch behind his ear flaps. A few scales clattered to the ground. Though he tried to appear aloof, he was listening and smelling for danger; the Gronckle seemed agitated.

 _Come come rocks,_ she bark-chattered. Her large brown body swayed dangerously beneath her little beating wings, and she respectfully avoided looking right in his eyes. _Rocks fall eggs trapped._

He perked up at this. _Eggs broken?_ He asked.

 _Not broken. Trapped._ She turned an impatient circle. _Come follow._

Toothless stood up obediently and stretched his wings before taking off, flapping after the Gronckle as she ascended toward the Gronckle rookery. He could see the cave-in long before he alighted in the entryway; the wall of the cave had crumbled and silty stone had blocked the entrance. Toothless greeted the nervous Gronckles gathered around him before padding over to sniff at the rocks.

 _Fall fall fall,_ the gathered Gronckles chattered at him. He thought maybe he could blast through the stones, so he retracted his teeth and built up a steady fire in his chest. He would try a gentle blast at first, because he didn’t want to break any of the eggs. He spit a bit of plasma at the rocks and it kicked up dust but didn’t do much of anything else. He would have to shoot harder.

 _Eggs close?_ He asked.

 _Not close, not far,_ the brown Gronckle told him helpfully, licking her nose and blinking.

 _Too close for my blast?_ He asked. He could tell the Gronckles were thinking. They muttered to each other: _too close? Too close?_

 _Too close,_ the brown Gronckle agreed. Toothless’ blasts were very strong and concentrated, and he knew he could shoot through the cave-in with ease. But his favorite Gronckle had confirmed that this might harm the eggs, which wouldn’t be good. If he hurt the eggs there would be no hatchlings.

He tried to think. Who could blast through the wall without hurting the eggs? Any of the fiery dragons like the Nightmares or Terrors would not be very helpful. They were very good at warming things up and burning foliage, but their fire wasn’t hot enough for rocks. The Gronckles obviously wouldn’t work, because their breath turned _into_ rocks. Not a good idea. He knew Whispering Deaths ate rock, but he had also known them to eat anything else in their path, including eggs.

There was one dragon who he had seen blast stone away with precision. Toothless lifted his nose and scented the air for his most familiar Green Zippleback, who could put gas and fire exactly where they wanted for as big or small an explosion as they chose. His ear flaps perked up when he recognized their scent. He was only good at smelling things which were very nearby, so he could tell they were in the same cavern as him.

 _Wait here,_ he chattered to the anxious Gronckles before taking off across the cavern, weaving between flocking Fireworms and racing Nadders. A little group of Terrors nearly barreled into him and he ducked just in time to avoid their little bodies. _Careful careful,_ he growled at them, then scented the air for the Zippleback again. They were just up ahead.

 _Hey hey hey,_ he called for their attention, and was pleased when they pulled up, hovering and twisting their heads around curiously. _Come come,_ he ordered. _Need your help. Rocks fall down. Eggs trapped._ He looked into their eyes (it was difficult to do all four, so he switched between them) to tell them that this was Serious and that they had better listen to him.

After thinking for a moment, the Zippleback screeched in agreement and followed him back to the Gronckle rookery, where they were heartily welcomed.

 _What what do we do what we do?_ They asked, stumbling all over each other’s questions as usual. The gas head was smelling the rocks while the spark head looked around absently.

 _Gentle fire, careful fire,_ he explained.

_Gentle fire?_

_Take rock away gently,_ he explained. _Like with humans. Shape rocks._

 _Humans shape rocks?_ The heads asked each other, then him, then the Gronckles. _Humans shape rocks? Shape rocks?_

Toothless remembered this Zippleback and their humans carving stones into precise shapes. They had even blown up a cave-in similar to this one. They didn’t remember, though.

It had been several moons since Toothless had noticed his flock was forgetting the humans. The Terrors and Zipplebacks had forgotten first; mention of the humans had been met with confusion and eventual disregard. He knew that the Gronckles and Nightmares still remembered their humans, but they didn’t remember many of the adventures they had been on. Toothless understood that. He had a hard time remembering some things as well. Like it was hard for him to remember how he met his human, because he didn’t think about it very much; it wasn’t relevant. He and the blue Nadder still spoke about their adventures sometimes, because the Nadder remembered them the best. Neither of them could bring the memories up on a whim, but they were frequently reminded of events by situations, such as this cave-in. He didn’t remember when or why or where it had happened, but he knew that the Zippleback had removed the roadblock.

 _Put a little gas,_ Toothless instructed. _Then spark. Very gentle. Eggs close._

The Zippleback’s gas head, who yelled and fought a lot, blew a little puff of gas against the cave in. The spark head, who always forgot which way the hunting grounds were, sparked it. A few rocks shattered, but nothing more happened.

 _Again again!_ Toothless told them. _More gas. Little more gas._

This time, when the Zippleback sparked, rocks scattered across the ground. Without being told to, they blasted again, and again, until the rocks were gone.

 _Good good good,_ Toothless purred, rubbing up against the Zippleback in thanks. Seeing that their work was done, they made a goodbye sound and flew off.

 _Eggs eggs eggs!_ The Gronckles chattered happily, waddling into the Rookery. Toothless followed them in. They had been right about the eggs; they were not too close to where the cave-in had been, but close enough that he would have blown them away with a more powerful blast.

Toothless smelled each egg until he was satisfied that they were safe, and all was as it should be. Then he flew back to his den, where his mate was still dozing, and curled up next to her. He didn’t get to rest for long—the next visitor was his most familiar Nightmare, screeching and squawking about a Boneknapper on his territory.

Toothless sighed, stood up, and stretched. The life of an alpha was a busy one. 

***

“So I’m thinking, Hookfang, right there,” Snotlout explained, gesturing to an open space beside his very tall house. “He has to be at least as big as Snot Tower, maybe even bigger, since he is, of course, even taller than me. And we need to make him out of the most weather-resistant stone, because that guy has to _last.”_

“So how big, exactly, are we thinking?” Hiccup took a few steps forward to survey the area.

“As big as possible. And you know what? Scratch the stone. _Metal.”_ Snotlout picked up a stick and tested its weight in his hand (out of habit) before dragging it through the dirt in a circle to indicate his statue’s very large base. “And he should be breathing fire.”

“He’ll be _eating lightning_ if you aren’t careful,” Hiccup muttered, sketching a Monstrous Nightmare in the planning journal. “And are we just wanting the fire breathing today, or are there any other difficult-to-carve actions you’d appreciate?”

“Flying. Can you make him fly?”

“If there’s a base on the statue, then yes.”

“What would we do for the base? If he’s flying he won’t be _on_ anything, genius.” Snotlout stalked to the other edge of his planning circle.

“Hm.” Hiccup rubbed his chin, undoubtedly getting charcoal all over his face. “What if we stabilized him with the fire? It would have to be a lot of fire, for it to be structurally sound…” he rubbed out his previous drawing and sketched in a Nightmare projecting his blaze at the ground, his body rising from the flames in flight. “He’ll have to be a little bit vertical to keep him from toppling over, but...how’s this?” He flipped the journal to face Snotlout.

“Getting close. He needs to be a little bit more badass, though.”

“And how would I-”

Hiccup could _see_ the instant Snotlout had an idea; his face lit up and he actually jumped a little in excitement. “What if he was on fire? How cool would that be?”

“Actually it might look...bad. He’d probably just look kind of weird and spiky.” Hiccup tried to imagine it and laughed a little.

“So? He’s already weird and spiky. It’s his thing.”

“Trust me on this one, Snotlout, if you want it to be recognizable as Hookfang, you’ll leave it as is.” Hiccup ran over his sketch, refining the lines. It looked good for having been drawn as quickly as it was.

“I’ll think on it.”

“Okay, well, let me know later, because I promised Fishlegs I’d be over at the library to help him with the design for his fountain.”

“His fountain?” Snotlout paused and cocked his head.

“We came up with the idea the other day! He wanted a water feature and we thought that maybe if we direct water downhill from the spring and pressurize it just right, we can get it to--”

“Okay, and, bored.” Snotlout faked a yawn. “Wow, record time, Hiccup. You should be proud. Anyway, I’m going to stand here and imagine how freaking majestic this thing is going to be, so you just run along now.” He turned and waved him off over his shoulder.

“I’m your chief, you know,” Hiccup muttered as he stalked away.

The library was near the center of New Berk, and had been Fishlegs’ idea. His great passion in life was knowledge, and he’d been collecting books brought in on the trade ships. He’d amassed quite a collection, and he had recently finished the addition to his house where he stored them and lent them out to villagers.

“I drew a rough sketch, and I know I’m not as good as you, but I thought you could base your plan off this!” Fishlegs brandished a piece of paper and Hiccup backed up, taking it in his hand. It was a hesitant drawing of Meatlug, standing on a rock with her head tipped back and mouth gaping open, a stream of water squirting from it.

“This is really good, Fishlegs, I like it!” Hiccup knelt on the ground and copied the Gronckle into his sketchbook. The chin wasn’t quite wide enough, so he fleshed it out, but kept the dignified mood of Fishlegs’ drawing.

“Thank you! It’s not very good, the lines are kind of scratchy and I couldn’t get her legs right, but I’m getting better at drawing dragons! I also drew a plan for Heather’s statue. I have it…here…somewhere…” Fishlegs rifled through his pockets and pouches before drawing out a folded piece of paper. He opened it up carefully before handing it down to Hiccup.

“Aww, she’s gorgeous!” The drawing was of Windshear, peering down curiously from a rocky perch.

“Heather wanted her by our house, instead of near the library. Ohh, I was really torn on where to put my Meatlug, but I think she’d want to be here. Even though she can’t read, she appreciates a good book.”

Hiccup smiled and shook his head, copying the sketch of Windshear in beside Meatlug. “Is this good?” He asked, moving over to give Fishlegs a clearer view. The contrast between Windshear’s lanky, armored elegance and Meatlug’s dumpy figure was stark.

“They’re so pretty!” Fishlegs agreed, nearly squealing. “That’s exactly how I imagined them! Oh, I miss those girls.”

“Meatlug will be very elegant,” Hiccup agreed. “And Windshear looks characteristically condescending, so I’d call this a win.” He gathered Fishlegs’ sketches and handed them back, closing the sketchbook with a satisfying _slap._ “I don’t know when we’re going to be able to start on the fountain, since it’s so much more labor-intensive than everything else. We might have to run some tests to make sure our idea actually works, too, but--”

“Yo, H!” Two pairs of boots clomped up from the general direction of the Meade Hall just as Hiccup was standing up. Ruffnut and Tuffnut skidded to a halt, nearly barreling into Fishlegs.

“We figured out what to do with Barf and Belch,” Ruffnut panted.

The twins had been arguing for several days about where to put their statue, since they wouldn’t be living next to each other for much longer. After the wedding in a moon’s time, Ruffnut would move in with her betrothed, Erik, leaving her house next to her brother’s.

“Remember how we had all those bridges on the Edge?” Tuff asked. Hiccup nodded; he’d _designed_ most of them.

“Well, Erik and I are going to build a ranch on the leeward side of the cliff,” Ruff explained. Hiccup nodded; he’d approved that zoning agreement the week before.

“And since my house is right around the corner on the…not…lee…the leeless side,” Tuffnut cut in, “We were thinking we could carve a Barf-and-Belch-shaped bridge into the cliff between our houses!”

Tuffnut’s house wasn’t _actually_ on the opposite side of the cliff from Ruffnut and Erik’ new property; it would be a fairly large carving, still, but Hiccup could see it working. He got back on his hands and knees and reopened the sketchbook with a sigh.

“How would you want that situated, then?” he asked.

“I want the heads,” the twins said at the same time, then glowered at each other.

“Could you each have a head?” Fishlegs suggested hesitantly. The twins scoffed.

“Could we _each_ have a head,” Tuffnut muttered. “Who does he think he is.”

“The bridge would be uphill part of the way!” Ruff explained. “Plus, do you remember how stupid Barf and Belch looked when they tried to go different ways? I mean, it was funny, but—”

“We’re not immortalizing our dear dragon in the cliff looking like a fool.” Tuffnut interrupted haughtily.

Hiccup had already been sketching for some time. “How about this,” he offered. The drawing was of Barf and Belch standing curled around the cliffside, a bridge between their tail and one head. The other head lay on the ground, forming a ramp.

“That’s great! I’ll take the head side,” Tuff proclaimed.

“Actually,” Hiccup said, “I was wondering if Ruff couldn’t have it? Because she and Erik have just established a more…permanent living situation,” he finished quickly, grimacing at Tuff’s noise of outrage.

“So?”

“So, do you still see yourself living in the same hut in five years, Tuff? What if you get married or move to a bigger property? Wouldn’t you like to have the freedom to do that, without the, uh, responsibility of the heads?”

“The heads _are_ a big responsibility,” Ruffnut agreed, deep in thought.

Tuff sighed. “You’re right. But it’s not because I don’t want the heads. Ruff can have them.” He paused. “I’ll just get another, better statue when I move. Then I’ll have them all to myself.”

“That’s fantastic,” Hiccup said. “Okie dokie, are we done?” He closed the sketchbook and stood up, trying to hurry them along. The sun was setting already, and he wanted some daylight left to check on the progress of the Toothless statue, then clear his Stormfly design with Astrid.

“Yes,” Fishlegs said hurriedly. “Thanks, Hiccup!”

The twins were bickering about something.

It took almost a year to finish the statues, in the end. There wasn’t much else to do, of course, peaceful as it had been, so there were plenty of people happy to help with the construction. With enough supervision, anyone could carve a statue, Hiccup found, and soon every resident who wanted one had a replica of their best friend. The village felt almost as full as it once had.

The Hookfang design worked out perfectly after the first one fell over, and was tall enough to be seen from the docks if one was looking for the tips of his horns. The Meatlug fountain was as elegant as they had all imagined, with the small issue of the water pressure. They couldn’t control it. Instead of spitting a stream of water, she dribbled it from the overflowing bottom of her gaping maw; it was true to form, at least, and the birds liked to play in it. The Barf and Belch carving was the biggest (to Snotlout’s dismay), and it was a good thing Ruffnut had taken the heads, since Tuff moved out shortly after construction finished, transforming his house into an exclusive clubhouse. He and his _adult sister_ sometimes hung out there for days at a time when “the vibe was getting them down.”

Astrid had nearly cried when Hiccup had showed her his drawing of Stormfly playing with a stick. The statue was full of life and joy, and sat in front of their house day after day, Stormfly smiling with her wings spread and head cocked mischievously, keeping watch over their home with one eye and greeting the tribe with the other.

Toothless, larger-than-life, stood on a cliff above the village, watching over and protecting its residents with a proud, kingly look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Thanks for reading. I like how this chapter turned out, and I realize the tone is kind of a heel-face turn but I just...these characters are so silly and so much fun to write that I hope I can write something sort of melancholy AND funny with them.
> 
> A note about how Toothless refers to the other dragons--he think of them with their human-given names anymore because they are irrelevant to him. He doesn't refer to Hiccup as Hiccup, but he still remembers him. He doesn't have episodic memories of his adventures, necessarily, but he knows which dragons are his best friends and he remembers the feelings he had. As he said, he can bring memories of events up if there is something to jog them. He doesn't really think about his life before now very much because as an animal, a natural survivalist, it isn't relevant to him. He takes the lessons he learned with him, though. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, let me know with kudos and comments!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our couples decide it's time to introduce the next generation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fair warning, this chapter contains what I can only describe as Dragon Foreplay. It's not sexualized but I know some of y'all are ready and willing to sexualize it. Just so you know if you for some reason don't want to read about very vague animal mating rituals (it stops just before the actual mating) then skip to the Hiccup half of the chapter.
> 
> Also I wanted to tag this fic with "mating cycles/in heat" because that's technically what this is but that has very different connotations than what's actually going on in this fic so it's not a tag.
> 
> There's human "foreplay" here too but it's literally just kissing and not very detailed at all.

His mate was acting very strange. As the weather cooled, she had become more affectionate, rubbing up against him and chirring and flicking her tail. She yowled and flapped her wings if he looked the other direction, which irritated him, and she followed him everywhere, snapping at any other Furies who so much as looked at him. When they curled up together in their nest, she rolled and writhed around on her back so much that he couldn’t sleep. Eventually he snapped and huffed at her to get her to settle down.

This behavior had continued for several sleep cycles until one day, when he returned to the den to find her huddled above the nest, crouching with her wings ruffled up. He could tell she was scent-marking the nest, which was odd, since they were the only ones who entered the den. The other dragons knew who lived here.

 _Okay?_ He asked hesitantly, stalking in. A strange scent hit him and he opened his mouth to smell better. His mate shuffled a bit before stalking out of the nest and around to the edge of the den, offering him the space. He padded up to the nest and smelled the rocks where she had marked them. He immediately tipped his head back and coughed; it was her scent, but very strong, and tinged with something new and unmistakable. It was her heat scent.

He unfurled his wings a bit and stalked toward her, head low and cooing beseechingly. She regarded him coldly, wings still big and intimidating, but let him approach and smell her undercarriage. He hummed and rubbed his body along her side, relishing the feeling of her scales against his.

 _Mate mate?_ He asked her, sniffing along her neck. She smelled like _his mate_ , like dry cold and the light before a fire, but warmer and more welcoming. He chirred a little song for her and unfurled his wings to show off their strength.

Not yet, she huffed before scurrying around him and crouching near his tail. He offered his undercarriage for her to smell, but darted away before too long, pouncing toward her with a playful trill.

She growled. No playing. This was Serious, then. He huffed and slunk back toward her, rubbing the side of his face against hers. She pressed into him hard and their scales scraped a bit, and he made a deep appreciative sound as it scratched an annoying itch. A few scales fell off and he knew they would add them to the nest later.

 _Mate mate?_ He asked again, darting back away from her and making his wings and flaps all as big as possible, bobbing around to show off. _See? See good? Good, strong mate?_

 _Good mate?_ She replied, mirroring his gesture before darting in to nip at his throat. He growled and she drew away, still fluffed up. _Pretty? Smell good? Good eggs, strong eggs,_ she promised, bouncing a little on her feet.

He had never done this before, but his instincts were powerful. This time he darted in and nipped at her neck, just behind her ear flaps. She chirped in surprise, and he bit down harder; not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to let her scent enter his mouth, and enough to let her know what he was going to do next.

She screeched and darted away as if hurt, but when he looked at her and rumbled in concern he realized she was fine. She chirped and bobbed her head, regarding him playfully from across the room.

No playing, he reminded her, irritated that she was teasing him. He knew why she had been acting strangely the past few days, and knew what to do about it. He was excited now, _Mate mate?_ And she was playing.

He opened his jaws and let a little burst of plasma out, whistling as he did so. The walls of their den lit up in a way he thought was very impressive, and he turned back to her to see if she felt the same way. _Strong fire? Yes?_ He flicked an ear, then did another blast for good measure.

She whistled back and blasted twice, then pranced across the den with her wings spread. She did some wing flaps, then cocked her head, waiting for him to mimic her. He did, careful to make his flaps and fins look as impressive and functional as possible. He knew she was just playing with him, that she had already chosen him as a mate and that he didn’t need to show off his strength for her, but he thought it might help hurry things along if he reminded her what a good sire he would be.

 _Good,_ she cooed, bobbing her head at him enthusiastically. He trilled and mimicked this gesture as well, mouth slightly open in what was almost a smile, but mostly for smelling her lovely familiar scent better.

 _Mate mate?_ He asked, flexing his claws in anticipation.

 _Mate mate_ , she acquiesced, lifting her hindquarters. He made a cheery little sound in his throat as he bounded over to her. He loved his mate very much no matter what, but right now his instincts were telling him what he had been missing for many, many moons. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, to become one with her beautiful white scales and her night-sky scent, and to know that soon she would lay their eggs. He latched onto her neck and breathed her scent in deeply, murmuring his love and excitement to her.

***

“AaaaauuugggHHHHH!” A door slammed on the other end of the house. Astrid was home.

“Evening, milady!” Hiccup called cheerfully. He lifted the lid from the pot of stew and yeah, it looked about done. He cooked in approximations. He’d only made them sick once, which was far better than Astrid could claim.

The heavy clomping of boots was the only response as Astrid entered from the foyer. Their house on New Berk was slightly larger than either of their childhood homes and the kitchen was a separate room. It wasn’t quite as extravagant as Snotlout and Tuffnut’s house (which unfailingly made Hiccup laugh every time he saw it; it was some horrible conglomeration of Snotlout’s Tall House and whatever Tuffnut had thought of in the moment. And yes, it had an S. And a T. And a C. And another C. A few, actually), and a little smaller than the one Ruff and Erik had built, but it still felt spacious.

Astrid groaned again, slumping in her chair and propping her boots up on the table.

“Do I wanna ask?” Hiccup chuckled, ladling stew into two bowls. The residents of New Berk ate in the Meade Hall infrequently, usually spending more time in their own homes. Valka had said it was a sign of the times.

“Chickens,” Astrid grunted, by way of explanation. “Everywhere. Just chickens.”

“Just chickens?” Hiccup set the bowls down and pecked Astrid on the cheek before sitting opposite her, listening intently. There were only chicken incidents every few moons, but they were always interesting. He was surprised he hadn’t heard the screaming.

“Just chickens. Rosewood’s chickens escaped and, coincidentally, so did Tuff’s. And there were just chickens everywhere, Hiccup, and Tuffnut insisted that we sort through them to find Chicken IV and Chicken V and Chicklet II and Allen.” She took an aggravated bite of stew. “Do you know how hard it is to tell chickens apart, Hiccup?”

“Not for Tuff. Those guys are his children. He loves them dearly.” Hiccup took a bite of his own stew and then struggled not to choke on it when he laughed. “Remember when Dad and Gobber thought Skullcrusher ate Chicken? And they both tried to fake Tuff out, but he knew exactly which one was his?”

Astrid’s eyes lit up as she laughed. “I do remember that. Did they think paint would fool a proud father?”

It was a nice memory; there were many evenings on the Edge that Hiccup looked back on fondly, even though six years had passed since they’d left it behind. It had been his first real taste of freedom, and even with the lingering threat of the Dragon Hunters it had been an incredible learning experience.

In his chiefdom, he sometimes found himself pining for that freedom. He certainly had pined after the dragons, in the three years since they’d released them. He’d pined after his father. But the happy memories outweighed the loss, and he didn’t try to avoid thinking of them.

“So what? Is the whole chicken situation sorted out, or am I gonna have to storm out there and...I dunno. Did you try Yelling?”

“The chicken situation has been sorted out. Allen gave us the slip, but he’s safe back in Snotnut tower with his dad and his reluctant other dad.”

“I hate that it’s called that.”

“I also hate it.” Astrid punctuated the remark with another bite of stew. “This is good, by the way. What’s in it?”

“Aw, man, I wish I could say chicken,” Hiccup laughed. “It’s just yak. Ruff gave me a haunch this afternoon when I was out there doing a maintenance check.” A maintenance check was the once-a-moon visit Hiccup had to make to be sure that there were no active fires or deadly hazards at Ruffnut’s yak ranch. She and Erik had been told that everyone was subjected to maintenance checks.

Astrid hummed. “What else did you do today?”

“Stump wanted me to check that Rosin wasn’t stealing his sheep away one by one in the night, which she wasn’t. Tantrum and Fingernail were fighting over a jar of spice, so I really hope the trade ships come in soon. I ended up just splitting it between them. It was very unclear who had it first. Then Leglug and Toes went missing and Heather and I went to drag them out of the woods. They weren’t in any danger, but it took us an hour to find them and I was almost late to Ruff’s.”

“How did a pair of toddlers make it out to the woods?” Hiccup heard Astrid’s spoon scrape the bottom of her bowl as she spoke.

“It wasn’t like, super in the woods, just a little bit. But that’s what we were thinking, which is why it took us so long to find them. I know ‘Legs and Heather are responsible parents, so I really think their kids might be magic.”

Astrid scoffed, then turned pensive.

“You want more stew?” Hiccup asked. “I’m going for more, so it’s not an issue. There’s just enough left. Wouldn’t want it to go bad.”

Astrid handed him her bowl wordlessly. When he returned to the table, she was staring at her hands.

“What’s up?” He asked, concerned.

“Oh, I was thinking about kids,” she said. “We need some of those, don’t we?” She took a bite, staring into her bowl thoughtfully.

“I mean, it’s preferable, but I know we’ve talked about it before and you weren’t sure and there are other people who could be heir so it’s not a huge problem if you don’t-”

Astrid’s gaze snapped up to meet his and she raised her eyebrows. _Stop talking._ He stopped talking.

“That’s not what I was thinking about. I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think I want to have kids, Hiccup.”

“You-you...you do?” He stared at her, waiting for the punchline.

“I do.”

“You really do,” he realized aloud. “Wow.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair before standing up. “Wow! Astrid, that’s fantastic!” On an impulse, he looped his arms under her elbows and scooped her off her seat, holding her in a hug high enough that her feet didn’t quite touch the ground and stepping back a bit as he overbalanced. He could tell he was grinning like an idiot but didn’t particularly care, because she was too, smiling that beautiful smile he would never get tired of seeing and he didn’t care if it made him the biggest sap in the world.

Astrid was laughing. “If I’d known you wanted kids this much, I’d have agreed sooner!” She bent her neck to kiss him, and he set her down; holding her weight plus his was a little too much for the leg. As soon as she was on the ground, though, he pulled her against him and pressed their lips together again. She leaned back against the table and he rested comfortably against her, hands wandering just a little.

After a minute she pulled away for a breath and laughed. “I didn’t mean immediately, babe,” she wheezed, “but I’m not complaining!”

“Awh, c’mon, you’ve had a hard day of chicken wrangling, milady,” he gave her lips a quick peck, then her jaw, then her neck. “You deserve immediately.”

“Oh, do I,” Astrid asked, nipping at him. “And what of your baby-hunting adventures, my good sir?”

“Oh, hey now, it can’t all be target practice and chicken fights, can it? Someone around here has to do the busywork.” His hands were in her hair now, fumbling to undo her braid as her mouth wandered along his jawline. “What can I say? You wear the chicken pants in this marriage. It’s a thankless job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

“Alright, you weirdo,” Astrid laughed, cuffing him gently over the head. “We should do this upstairs.” She kissed his pulse point. “After we clean up the dishes.”

“Ehh, a fair assessment, but I just don’t know if I can wait that long,” Hiccup quipped.

“Well, you’ll have to,” she said, shoving him off and turning to the table, “because I’m doing the dishes.”

“I can do that,” he said quickly, stumbling to regain his footing before reaching out to ask her to wait.

“You cooked. I’ll get the dishes. When I cook, you can clean up.”

“Oh no,” he said, stumbling back in mock horror, a hand over his heart. “Oh gods, please, no. I’ll do anything to keep you from cooking.”

“Hey!” Astrid whirled around, brandishing a wooden spoon. “Do you wanna get laid tonight or not, mister?”

And he couldn’t really say much of anything to his beautiful wife because he did. He did very much want to get laid. And he wanted to do so knowing that he was allowed and encouraged to impregnate her.

He was gonna be a dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy, HAPPY Friday, and thanks for reading!
> 
> I wrote this chapter before I wrote chapter 3 and it might be apparent. Also the Hiccup half of this chapter was so fun to write and I think maybe I had a little too much fun and the mood did a weird turn but...
> 
> If you'll notice, Toothless doesn't think of himself by his name once in the whole chapter.
> 
> Now witness below, as I geek out about animals for [more than] a second:  
> The mating ritual I wrote is really not specific to any one animal species. We see some ritualized stuff in the third movie and I filled in some gaps because I think mating behaviors in animals are fascinating (when they have mating behaviors beyond the horse/dog idea of 'look I'm here and DTF!'). What the Light Fury does is characteristic of heat and mating behavior in cats; Toothless bites her neck which is a mating behavior for cats and some reptiles. They of course do the bird thing to demonstrate how strong and healthy they are for making Good Babies, because bird dances are So Good You Guys. But there are very human and loving aspects of their relationship, too, which are seen in animals that mate for life (like Night Furies!). Barn owls mate for life and will actually have recreational sex--now that Toothless and his mate have established that this is a Thing They Can Do, I think they probably will also. Toothless opening his mouth to "smell better" is the Flehmen response, which horses are famous for but dogs and cats and all sorts of other animals do too--because scent and taste are so closely connected and because many animals (not us) have special glands for smelling in their mouths, you'll see animals (male animals in particular when smelling a female's urine) wrinkle up their lips and sometimes tilt back their heads to better analyze the smell. I've seen alpacas do this every time they are marginally close to female waste at all and it's quite funny to watch. And here's a science question for you: how many dicks Toothless got? A real, scientific question; I'm going to guess Two, not for Kink Reasons (I don't sexualize animals in this house, no matter what you wanna do with my content) but because it's very very common in reptiles to have what are called hemipenes. They only insert one peen at a time but both dicks emerge from either side of the cloaca to allow the males better access around the female's tail. I think this might be the Dragon Dick Situation. 
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter which was a really weird mix of A Lot of Things Happening. It's super fun to imagine where the human characters are after a few years (three, by my vague and possibly-incorrect timeline). Leave me a comment with your thoughts or your ideas about any of my characterization of animal or human characters, and drop kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks very much!
> 
> See you next Friday with what I cannot stress enough is an EQUALLY NON-SEXUAL Egg Laying Chapter and a Pregnant Astrid Scene with the return of Emotions.
> 
> If you're interested in following me on Tumblr, my personal (garbage) blog is @squeeb100 and my art blog is @squeeb-art. Insanely creative, yes I know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- The Toothless half contains a "birth scene" (it's just egg laying)  
> \- The Hiccup half is SICKENINGLY FLUFFY AND SWEET

The Night Fury whistled gleefully as he skimmed over the surface of the water. The midday sun glinted off the waves and he knew that it would draw plenty of fish up to the surface, so he wasted no time ducking his head in and scooping water into his strong jaws. He closed his throat so no salt water could trickle into his stomach and allowed fish to pile up in the back of his mouth.

When his mouth was full, he pulled up to glide more gently above the water, swallowing the fish and enjoying the sliding feeling as they went down his throat. His belly felt full and distended after a few more mouthfuls and he turned around sluggishly, knowing he’d had all he could carry.

Hundreds of dragons flocked around him, scooping up fish with ardor. A few Scauldrons were under the surface, stirring up schools to make them easier to catch, and his flock was in a feeding frenzy. He slipped away quietly, allowing the rest of the dragons to eat their fill; he knew he would likely have to hunt again later in the day.

Nobody accompanied him on his return journey, but the flight wasn’t very far. Fish didn’t come very close to the waterfalls, but it was a short flight to feeding grounds, and he only had to glide for a short while before he dove into the tunnel which led Home. He didn’t do any tricks or play in the air, laden with fish as he was, preferring to glide straight to his den, where he landed with a few mighty claps of his wings.

 _Hello hello mate?_ He chuffed with concern as he padded into their den. His mate had spent many moons lying in the nest, eyes half-closed. She was using all her energy to make strong eggs. Recently, she had stopped eating, which would have concerned him had his flock not assured him it was normal. They didn’t know why, but just before eggs were ready to be laid, their mothers didn’t feel very hungry.

Earlier that day, however, his mate had begun shifting and muttering to herself. She left the drowsy state she’d occupied for many sleep cycles and began to circle and pace in the nest, nudging the rocks and making sure things were just so. He’d wondered what was wrong, and she told him the eggs were coming.

He knew, deep inside somewhere, that his mate was about to be very hungry. So at feeding time he’d scooped up as many fish as he could possibly carry and brought them to her, regurgitating them onto the floor of the den, where they landed with a very wet sound. He sat next to his catch and looked to his mate for approval.

 _Good good?_ He asked, flicking an ear. _Many fish._

His mate didn’t notice his fish, which made the Night Fury a bit sad. He wasn’t upset with her, though, because she was clearly very preoccupied. She would stand up and pace the length of the den, tail flicking in agitation, before lying down in the nest. There she would shift in obvious discomfort for a few moments before standing up, turning a circle and pacing around the den once more.

 _Okay?_ He asked her.

 _Egg egg egg_ , she chattered her jaw. _Almost here_. She crouched and kneaded the nest, mewing a bit in distress, before bending as much as she could around her swollen abdomen to sniff and lick at her vent.

 _Okay_ , he purred reassuringly, crossing the den to press his nose against her side. She purred in return, acknowledging his presence, before another pained grunt escaped her.

 _Ow ow ow! Egg!_ She screeched, flattening out onto her side. He could see her flanks heaving with effort and he cooed reassurances to her. _Ow ow!_ She writhed a bit on her side before standing up and crouching over the nest. Her mate backpedaled to give her room, chirping anxiously as she howled, and howled, then sighed and cooed in relief as the egg slipped gently into the nest.

The Night Fury sniffed at the egg curiously. It was hard and round and about the size of a Gronckle egg, but smooth like a Nadder egg. It was mostly light, the way a Nadder’s egg is, but speckled with black dots, like the night sky in reverse. He cooed a greeting to it. It was slick and warm and smelled like his mate, and like blood.

 _Blood?_ He asked, earflaps flattening in concern as he raised his head to eye his mate nervously. _Okay?_

 _Okay,_ his mate told him. She turned around to smell the egg herself, giving her mate a better view of the nest. He startled when he noticed that, pushed safely off to the side, there was another egg.

 _Two egg?_ He asked, voice pitching up eagerly. _Two egg?_ He knew some dragons laid one big egg, while some laid so many he couldn’t even count them all. He bounced on his feet and trilled with excitement. _More?_

 _One more,_ his mate told him absently, licking her vent again. He made his way to the other side of the nest to greet the older egg. It was speckled like its sibling, and slightly smaller. He watched as his mate picked the second egg up delicately and placed it beside the first.

 _Warm eggs, protect eggs._ He curled around the two eggs, draping his wing over them. His mate was panting and pacing again, and he made more gentle, reassuring sounds to her.

The third egg was easier for his mate to lay and didn’t seem to hurt her as much. They both smelled and greeted it before placing it with the other two under their sire’s wing.

The Light Fury sighed. _Tired_ , she said, eyelids drooping. _Hungry_.

Her mate perked up at that. _Brought fish!_ He told her _. For you!_ He pointed the pile of fish out to her with a flick of his tail. She chirped in joy and pressed her face against his in thanks before padding over to slurp up her first meal in many sleep cycles.

The Night Fury lifted his wing and nudged each of their eggs in turn, promising to keep them warm and safe until they hatched. They were so small and fragile and beautiful, and when he pressed his nose up to one and closed his eyes, he could feel a tiny heartbeat.

***

The tribe had been preparing for the loss of Gothi for years—Vikings didn’t live forever, and she had already long outlived the life expectancy when Hiccup was born. They had grown complacent with such an experienced healer, however, and when winter took her she left a void that not even her most experienced student could fill.

It was, in Hiccup’s opinion, the worst time for such a thing to have happened.

It was three moons before they were sure Astrid was pregnant; they had hoped after one, and expected after two, but without Gothi’s divining powers their hopes hadn’t been confirmed until she’d started to show. They’d been overjoyed; everyone in the village had celebrated.

But pregnancy, it turned out, wasn’t much fun for anyone.

Valka and Astrid’s mother had been the leaders in this department, as Hiccup and Astrid were largely at a loss for what to do. There had been the daily illness (they’d been sure she was going to die) and the mood swings (Hiccup had been sure he was going to die) and the fact that battle practice wasn’t recommended for pregnant women (Astrid had acted like lying about all day would kill _her_ ). She was cooped up and uncomfortable and irritable, and as the moons passed she only grew more upset with the circumstances.

Hilde, a thirty-year-old woman, was the most experienced healer after Gothi. She wasn’t a diviner, they had to go to Marnie for that, and her readings only turned out to be true about half the time. They’d taken everything she’d said (about the baby’s sex, health, destiny) with a grain of salt. They visited Hilde regularly, and everyone waited in anxious anticipation of the child’s autumn birth.

“It’s driving me crazy, Hiccup, I can’t even lay normally anymore! I’m going to be so out of shape, I can’t stand this.” Astrid groaned, thrashing melodramatically between the sheets. She finally held still, starfished out on her back.

“Do you need anything before I get in bed?” Hiccup asked, sinking onto the edge of the mattress (Erik had brought the idea with him from his island. Brilliant).

“Ugh, no.” Astrid flung an arm across her eyes. Hiccup shrugged and bent over to undo his prosthetic, then swung himself around to lay next to his wife.

“Hey, five moons down, though! You’re getting close!” He said, perhaps too brightly; she brushed him away.

“Yay, just the four hardest moons to go!” She replied, voice laced with sarcasm. “Your mom said soon I won’t be able to lie on my back, so I’ve got that to look forward to. And she’s started kicking.”

“My mom?”

"The baby.”

“When did this happen?” Hiccup asked, sitting up in dismay. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It happened today and I’m telling you now, love. It was just a little kick, but it surprised me. My mom said it was totally normal, and that I started kicking with a vengeance at four moons.” She rested a hand on her swollen belly and looked at it thoughtfully. “Hey, feel,” she ordered. Hiccup let her grasp his hand and place it over her nightgown.

“Am I supposed to feel kicking?”

“No, her heartbeat. Feel.”

He went silent, as though that would somehow help him feel, and concentrated on the sensation in his hand. It was hard to make out (he assumed because there was so much…whatever, between his hand and the baby’s heart), but he could feel a small steady flutter under his palm.

“Wow,” he breathed, then lowered his head reverently to press his ear against Astrid’s belly. Sure enough, he could hear the thumping. “Wow! That’s…wow!” He sat upright and looked her in the eye. “He’s alive in there! There’s an actual, real person inside you right now.”

“Sure is,” Astrid laughed. Suddenly they both paused, surprised.

“What’s that?”

“I think,” Astrid said slowly, then giggled as realization entered her tone, “I think she has the hiccups.” She laughed outright, kicking out with her feet, and Hiccup could hear and feel it through her stomach.

“Is that a thing?” he asked, grinning. “Is that a thing that can happen?”

“I think so,” Astrid gasped. “That’s hilarious.” They collapsed, for a moment, in peals of laughter, before gathering themselves again.

Hiccup sat up slowly. “He really is, huh?”

“Is what?”

“A person. We made a person, Astrid.” He laid down beside her again, hand still resting on her belly, and she wiggled up against his chest.

“We did,” Astrid confirmed.

For a few moments they just lay there, breathing. Hiccup wrinkled his nose as Astrid’s hair tickled it. Four moons, this baby had been growing—it had passed through the dangerous time when many unborn children were lost and was well on its way to being born alive and healthy.

“What if I suck as a dad?” he suddenly asked.

Astrid let out a startled laugh. “What?”

“What if I’m just terrible at it? I’ll probably be too strict, or too lenient—I’ll either break his spirit or create a monster, or I’ll just drop him or lose him in the woods somewhere, because gods, Astrid, that’s a lot of responsibility!”

Astrid twisted her neck awkwardly to eye him. “Hiccup.”

“What.” He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her scathing look.

“You are going to be an amazing father. If anything, it’s me we should be worried about!”

“No, no, Astrid, you’re…you’re strong, and kind and honest and supportive—”

“And short-tempered, impatient, mean, even…I’m not the mothering type. I’m not soft or warm, I can’t sing lullabies to save my life and I’ll probably kill the kid with my cooking,” she said. “I’ve worried about it, believe me. But you know who is patient and warm and fun and can cook?” She paused, then patted his hand where it rested on her stomach. “It’s you. Now, I don’t wanna be the mean parent, I want to be fun too—”

"I see no issues there. How fun is a mom who can lop someone’s head off with an axe and walk away smiling?”

She ignored him. “And you will need to be strict. And I mean actually strict. Pretend this child is a dragon and will burn the village down if you don’t do more than wag your finger and stick your chest out strict. But I know you can do that. And I know I can be warm and loving. I do it all the time.” She brought her hands to rest on top of his, which was still pressed against the tiny life in her belly.

“You, uh…you really thought this one out, didn’t you?”

“I had a pep talk from your mom,” Astrid chuckled. “All I’m saying is that neither of us is gonna be the perfect parent. I don’t think anyone is. But we’re going to try our hardest and work together and it will probably turn out okay.”

“How come you’re always the one with the answers, huh?” Hiccup nuzzled playfully into his wife’s hair. “How come _you_ ,” he slipped his hand off her belly and wrapped his arms around her to wrestle-hug her from behind, “are always the one who reminds _me_ it’s okay?”

Astrid shrieked and laughed and kicked and squirmed, trying to get out of her husband’s vice-like grip. They were both mindful of her stomach while they roughhoused, but laughed and tussled all the same. “You wouldn’t be winning if you hadn’t surprised me!” Astrid complained. “And it’s because you worry too much and I,” she elbowed him in the chest, “am always right.”

“Augh!” Caught off guard, and with the wind knocked out of him, Hiccup instinctively let go. He flopped back on the bed and played dead, defeated.

Astrid nestled back down into him immediately, snuggling against his side as if nothing had happened.

“You’re evil,” he informed her.

“Yep.” She twisted up and kissed his cheek. “I sure am.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.”

“And I love you,” Hiccup said, projecting his voice toward her stomach.

Astrid sighed and shook her head. “She loves you too,” she said. “She says she can’t wait to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! It uh...it's a day, that's for sure. I have a test on EVERYTHING I've read in a class this semester coming up this afternoon so I'm really looking forward to that one.
> 
> If you enjoyed, please leave kudos or, even better, comment! Let me know how you feel!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four babies are welcomed into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it a thing that Night Furies hatch when the egg is struck by lightning? Like I didn't come up with that, did I?
> 
> Content warning for this chapter: Childbirth scene in the second half. It's not graphic but it's there.

Thunder boomed outside, loud enough that the Night Fury could hear it even from his den deep under the ocean. He growl-whined in excitement and pranced around the edges of the nest, nudging each of his eggs to make sure they were straight and good and ready. It was time for them to hatch. The Furies had felt the pressure drop during the day and had known instinctively that _this was the one,_ this was the thunderstorm that would hatch their eggs. It had been enough time for the hatchlings to develop, and now it was time for them to come out.

The problem, they had realized, would be getting the eggs outside. The storm wouldn’t reach deep within their safe home, and they would have to carry the big eggs out.

_How,_ he asked his beautiful mate, sleek and white like snow with her winter-electric scent. _Take eggs to lightning? Take eggs?_

_Mouth?_ She asked, the timbre of her voice making his ear flaps quiver. She ducked her broad head and scooped up one of the speckled eggs.

_Careful careful,_ he warned her, but it wasn’t much of a warning. He knew she wouldn’t hurt the egg, and her teeth were all carefully retracted. Thinking it was a very good idea, the Night Fury ducked his head and picked up one of the remaining eggs, cradling it with his tongue. He couldn’t close his mouth all the way around it, so he kept his jaws just tight enough to hold it firmly in place.

Another problem, he was realizing: there was one more egg in the nest, and no more mouths. _Egg egg?_ He asked, with a flick of his ear flap to indicate what he meant. His voice sounded a bit strange with his mouth open around the egg, but she understood his question.

She turned toward the entrance, the message clear. _Come back._ He churred his agreement and padded after her, unfurling his wings to follow her through the caverns and to the surface.

The sky was nearly dark as night, but he knew it wasn’t time to sleep. The clouds were just angry. There would be plenty of lightning, and for this he was thankful. He wasn’t sure quite where they would put the eggs, but his mate was leading the way. She was following her homing instinct. She was going to the place she was hatched.

The Night Fury remembered the place he was hatched, but it was very far away. His mate had lived in their Home her whole life, and her hatching place was nearby; she sped through the storm with the egg in her jaws, a splash of white against the dark ocean and sky. He followed, soundless save for his fast-flight whistle, relishing the feeling of the charged air. There was lightning nearby, and it prickled and crackled his skin and scales, tingling pleasantly.

They didn’t fly for long before land came into sight, and the Light Fury began to lose altitude as she aimed for the highest peak of the rocky isthmus. The Night Fury adjusted his tail flaps and followed her, dropping and dropping and alighting soundlessly on the rock.

The ocean was crashing against the rocks far away, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Then lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. He shivered and ruffled his wings.

His mate laid the egg down on a flat part, and he rested his next to it. _Go back for egg?_ He asked, opening his wings in preparation for another trip.

_No no you stay,_ his mate chided, nosing the eggs into the perfect position. _Watch eggs. I go. Back soon._ She stretched her neck to press noses with him, exchanging warmth and reassurance through their breaths. _Love love love._

_Love love love,_ he replied, watching as she darted into the sky and away toward Home. He waited until she was out of sight before nosing the eggs himself, nudging and smelling them. He could smell her scent on one and his scent on the other, from when they had carried them. He could smell the eggs’ own scent underneath that, the smell of their unborn hatchlings. _Love love love babies,_ he purred, licking and snuffling.

Thunder crashed overhead, loud enough that he flinched. He moved away to give the eggs room to hatch; they were going to be very Big and very Loud when the lightning hit them. He huddled down on the rocks, resting his head on his paws to watch.

He didn’t have to wait very long; he could feel the lightning building before it hit and closed his eyes so it didn’t hurt them. With a spectacular _crash_ the lightning struck the eggs and they exploded into shards which flew in every direction. Energy crackled through the eggs and the air and the Night Fury opened his eyes, smiling. _Excited excited,_ he trilled, wiggling a bit before he bounded over to the place the eggs had been.

_Where?_ A tiny squeak asked. _Help? Help?_ Another little voice joined it.

_Here here here safe love love,_ the Night Fury assured the little hatchlings, snuffling and nuzzling and licking them anxiously. _Love love love you’re safe babies._ They smelled perfect, his perfect babies, like his mate and like him and like their own little selves, looking up at him with large round eyes.

_Parent? Help? Parent?_ One hatchling, which smelled female, squeaked. She was mostly black with a splash of white on the tip of her muzzle, and he loved her instantly.

_Here here love,_ he assured her. _Love love love,_ he told the other hatchling, too, so he wouldn’t feel left out. The little male was also black with splashes of white, but none on his face. He stared up at the Night Fury with luminous green eyes and squeak-chirped at him.

_Parent parent?_ The hatchlings whistled.

_Love love love._

Lightning struck the rock behind them and the hatchlings cowered, startled. _Safe safe,_ he assured them, curling his warm body around them protectively. They rested under his wing, startling at the loud storm, until his mate returned with the last egg.

_Eggs safe babies safe?_ She asked frantically, bounding over. The Night Fury lifted his wing proudly to display the two hatchlings. White-nose Hatchling squeaked a greeting, echoed by her brother. _Hello hello babies,_ the Light Fury greeted them, sniffing and licking and loving on them. The Night Fury noted the absence of the other egg and glanced about frantically until he saw it resting a few body-lengths away, round and speckled and ready to hatch.

The hatchlings made safe, content noises as their mother nudged and groomed their little bodies, and the Night Fury felt a strong swell of _love_ in his chest. These were his hatchlings, his babies, small and warm (but no fire yet!) with scales not yet hardened against the world, and he would do anything for them.

Lightning struck again, loudly, and all four dragons whipped their heads around to see the final egg burst into crackling, zapping shards. The Light Fury _whirred_ and bounded over to the little white lump, hunched into itself and casting its green gaze about in terror. _Love love love I am here,_ he heard her tell it, and it whimpered and flailed its uncoordinated wings and feet about. She gave it nudges and licks and finally scooped it loosely into her jaws, where it hung limply and allowed itself to be carried to its siblings.

_Baby,_ the Night Fury churred, extending his head to smell it. The little white hatchling had a gentle baby female-scent, just under the him-scent and the her-scent and the baby’s own sweet smell. The baby stared into his eyes with its matching ones, and he smiled at it, showing it his gums. It was a gesture he had always known, perhaps; he didn’t remember where he had learned it, but he knew that it was a very Good Thing and it was what one did to show that they were Very Pleased. The hatchling just blinked, maybe not knowing how to mimic yet. She would learn.

Night Hatchling, he thought of the black male, made a whining sound. _Pay attention to me!_ He demanded, nudging against his father’s side. The Night Fury turned around and scooped Night Hatchling into his gummy mouth and deposited him before his mother with a parting lick. The Light Fury pattered her feet against the rocks and mewed, delighted.

_Baby baby!_ She sang, plopping Light Hatchling next to her brother. The Night Fury moved White Nose Hatchling as well, and she reached out curiously to look at the new sister.

The Night Fury looked up at his mate with trusting eyes as their babies got acquainted. _Take babies Home?_ He asked by standing up and shaking.

_Babies Home,_ his mate agreed, picking Light Hatchling up again with gentle jaws around her soft middle part. The Night Fury scooped up White Nose Hatchling in the same way, then lifted Night Hatchling with his front paws, rocking back onto his hindquarters. He could keep a grip on the hatchling better than he could have an egg, and he snuffled to let his mate know he was ready to go.

The hatchlings squeaked as they lifted into the air with big flaps of their wings, but their fear quickly turned to little cheers of excitement. Their voices were so small, the Night Fury thought fondly. White Nose Hatchling squirmed in his mouth, battering his lower jaw with her paws as if they were playing a very fun game, and he nudged her dotingly with his tongue. Night Hatchling squirmed and dangled and made it hard for him to grip, and once or twice he was frightened the baby would slip and fall down into the cold, raging ocean; he didn’t, though, and eventually he settled down, probably sleeping.

The whole flight Home, Light Hatchling looked back at him with wide eyes, as if amazed by everything. When they dove into the waterfall pit she shrieked, squeezing her eyes tight shut, but she opened them in time to see the wonders of their Home and admire the pretty lights.

The Night Fury had to fend off his curious flock with growls and pinned ear flaps to let them know that it was not time to see the hatchlings. They were too new, and even a silly accident could be dangerous. He was relieved to reach the den, where he placed the hatchlings gently into the nest beside their sister. White Nose Hatchling sneezed, blinked, and curled up in the crook between Light Hatchling and Night Hatchling with a content sigh. Their mother had already warmed the rocks, and she kneaded them gently into order before settling down herself with a wing draped over the hatchlings. The Night Fury’s chest felt so full of pride and joy and love that he was only a little put out that this meant _he_ would have to go out and get fish for the new dragons.

***

“You’re going to have to stop pacing eventually, man,” Tuffnut observed helpfully, fiddling with Ruffnut’s braid. He was seated on a bench with his sister between his legs looking for all the world like a dragon enjoying a grooming. They hadn’t started the night in that position; it had been several hours.

“I hate to say it, Hiccup, but he’s right,” Fishlegs chanced. “You should take your weight off your leg, probably.”

He _had_ tried sitting down, about half an hour ago. But not moving had made the anxiety build up so strong in his chest that he’d begun to tap his foot and mess with his hair, and he’d felt like yelling or running or _something_ just to get the horrible frightened restlessness out _._ So he’d stood back up and resumed his restless silent pacing in front of the house, not knowing what else to do.

“Okay,” Heather decided. She stood up, all business, and grabbed Hiccup by the shoulders, steering him to the porch and pushing him down gently but firmly. “You need to sit down, Hiccup. Just relax. She’s fine.”

“I can’t!” He finally shouted, startled by his own outburst. Astrid was inside, _in labor, in pain,_ in _danger_ (they could hear her strangled cries and yowls from outside), and he couldn’t help her at all. Childbirth was the top killer of Vikings now that the wars were over, and his mind kept whispering _one in four, one in four_ even though he had been assured of her health and strength. He gathered himself a bit, looking up into Heather’s kind green eyes. “I just can’t,” he repeated, voice breaking.

“You _can,_ ” Heather insisted, holding his gaze. “Trust Astrid, Hiccup. She’s strong. And hey,” she knelt to look at him straight on. “I survived _twins._ If _I_ can do _twins,_ Astrid’s got this in the bag.”

“Yeah, Coz, Astrid’s like, scary tough,” Snotlout chimed in, migrating over from his seat beside Ruff and Tuff. “Every time we thought she was dying in the past she came back within literal _minutes._ I’m scared shitless of her, dude, she’s gonna be fine.” He patted his cousin heartily on the back, nearly causing Hiccup to lurch forward into Heather.

“Thanks, ‘Lout,” Hiccup muttered.

“What’s one in four anyway?” Ruffnut asked loudly, resting a hand on her own just-visible pregnancy. “Out of me, Heather, Astrid and…I dunno, some other hot momma, do you think _Astrid’s_ gonna be the one to die in childbirth? No _way,_ bro.”

The sentiment was sweet, but horribly misguided. “I don’t want to think about _anyone_ dying,” Hiccup said, then buried his head in his hands with a strangled sound as a particularly bloodcurdling shriek sounded from inside. He stood up quickly. “That’s it, I’m going inside.”

“No no no no no,” Fishlegs stammered, leaping into his path. “You aren’t allowed!”

“I’m the chief, I am allowed to do whatever I damn well please.” Hiccup crossed his arms and shifted his stance minutely, spreading his legs to stand sturdy and determined before his much larger friend. Astrid screamed inside the house and Valka’s voice rose up underneath, no doubt murmuring encouragement to her daughter-in-law.

“It’s _improper,”_ Fishlegs hissed, blue eyes pleading. As Gobber’s successor (in-training), he was allowed and encouraged to advise Hiccup. _Advise,_ not command.

“Is that seriously the one old law we’re sticking to?”

“He’s got a point,” Heather told her husband.

“I say let him in!” Tuffnut shouted, quickly shushed by _his_ husband. He was able to recruit Snotlout for a _quiet_ chant, however, and the two of them plus Ruffnut whispered “let him in! let him in!” Warmth flooded Hiccup’s chest at his friends’ undying support. He would be sure to thank them later.

Fishlegs stood strong for perhaps three more seconds before sighing and stepping away. “Good luck,” he wished his best friend, and Hiccup smiled at him in gratitude before hurrying into the house.

He opened the door to chaos. Astrid lay on a pelt on the kitchen floor with her knees in the air facing away from the entryway. Hilde knelt at her hips, with Astrid’s mother, Gerd, and Valka sitting to the side, ready to scramble for anything needed.

Valka managed to cry “Hiccup, the laws!” before he had crossed the room and knelt at Astrid’s side, sweeping a gentle hand over her sweaty brow. She opened her tight-shut eyes and looked confused to see him sitting over her.

“The laws have changed, I changed the laws. You’re okay,” he directed the last part to Astrid, who was crying out in pain again. He scrambled for her hand and she squeezed it tight, grinding his bones together painfully. “Augh, yeah, you’re okay, Astrid.”

“Get out!” Gerd cried, shocked, and Hiccup ignored her. Astrid was growing more and more frantic, and his dauntless wife looked up into his eyes with real, _genuine_ fear. “Get him out,” Gerd ordered Valka, who didn’t move, perhaps struck dumb by his sudden unexpected presence.

“We don’t have time to argue, I see the head,” Hilde shouted, which made Astrid groan in despair.

“I can’t do it, it _hurts_!” She screamed, hysterical, squeezing Hiccup’s hand until he thought it might break. Astrid grunted and Hilde made a sound of approval.

“That’s good, Astrid, keep pushing. Bear down, _hard,”_ the healer ordered.

“You can do it, love,” Gerd reassured her daughter, abandoning the useless task of ousting Hiccup. She grasped Astrid’s free hand and her gaze met Hiccup’s; he nodded to her resolutely.

Then it was absolute chaos for what felt like at once an instant and an eternity, before Astrid gave one huge _heave_ and the baby presumably slipped out. Hiccup smiled at her and brushed a thumb across her cheek before glancing down her body at Hilde, who was holding the limpest, bloodiest, slickest thing he’d ever seen and rubbing it down with a cloth. After a few moments high strangled cries erupted from the infant.

“It’s a girl!” Hilde announced, and Hiccup grinned. It was alive. _She was alive,_ she was a girl, and _Astrid was alright._ He grinned down into her face and she looked back up with an exhausted but equally elated smile.

“It’s a girl,” he whispered reverently. “She’s a girl, Astrid!”

“She’s a girl,” Astrid confirmed, and he could see that she was crying and bent over to kiss her gently on the lips, the cheeks, the forehead. Hilde, Gerd and Valka were bustling about by her hips, doing whatever else had to be done in the mystical act of birthing a child, but Hiccup and Astrid stayed close together, nuzzling and kissing each other, relieved and overjoyed.

“Do you want to hold her, Astrid?” Hilde finally asked, and Hiccup pulled away to give them room.

“Is it alright if I help her sit up?” He asked hesitantly.

“She still has to deliver the afterbirth,” Hilde said, which he took as a _no._ “You can prop her up for a moment, though.”

Hiccup hurriedly shuffled to Astrid’s head, where he tried to situate his legs so he wouldn’t put undue torque or pressure on the left. Then he gently pulled Astrid against him, pillowing her head with his thighs. Gerd had gained possession of the baby at some point, and she handed her, now swaddled against the autumn cold, to Astrid.

“You’re so small,” Astrid murmured in wonder, cradling the small thing up against her chest. The baby was red and wrinkled and looking up at her parents with wide milky eyes.

“Her eyes are blue,” Hiccup said.

“They may not stay that way,” Valka warned, voice warm. “Yours were that color as well. Ah, look at the wee thing,” she said adoringly, leaning forward as the baby yawned and fussed. “What’ll you call her?”

“We haven’t decided,” Astrid said. They really hadn’t; it wasn’t good luck to name an unborn or newborn infant, since so many died so young. It was traditional to wait half a moon before formally inducting a baby into the tribe—by then it was usually safe.

“Look, she’s got your nose,” Hiccup said, pointing. He was vaguely aware that he sounded like an idiot, pointing out physical features of the child. But the situation was so surreal. This was a _human_ that came out of his _wife_ and was half _him._

Astrid laughed. “How can you tell?”

“Because it’s not my nose.”

Their fawning adulation was interrupted by the little girl, who had decided that she was _very unhappy right now_ and, according to Hilde, wanted to eat. Gerd finally managed to dislodge Hiccup, arguing that he had seen his wife and child, they were _fine,_ now he should leave them alone and stop bothering Astrid.

“It’s okay, babe,” Astrid assured him. “Go tell everyone I’m okay. You can hold her after she eats, alright?”

Hiccup nodded, helping shift Astrid’s upper body into Gerd’s lap as she encouraged the child to latch onto her breast. He gave his wife a parting kiss on the cheek, and whispered “see you later, I love you” into her hair.

Five pairs of anxious eyes met his as he opened the front door. He was touched that none of their friends had left, though it had been at least half an hour since he’d left.

“Is she alright?” Snotlout prompted urgently. “Is there a baby?”

Hiccup grinned and spread his arms. “She’s a girl!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I already said this in the first chapter but I wanted to drive it home that I did not entirely come up with the way the dragons are communicating and am heavily inspired by Le'letha. If you want to see dragon communication done better and somehow have not read Nightfall or the associated fics, please do. It's one of my absolute favorites and Le'letha is so clever about writing animals (Leletha on Ao3, this website doesn't allow that fun fun punctuation). I don't know if they entirely invented the system or were inspired by something else, but I am inspired by them and am probably being ridiculous but here we are, I am just. A little creacher. And I want to make sure you know.
> 
> This chapter is largely unrevised and I don't know if y'all can tell but WHOO BOY I sure can. I've never taken a beta reader because I write fanfiction solely for personal enjoyment and that means it's a) done when I'm content with it and b) very inconsistent and only happens when I want to write. Just like my drawings, I LOVE sharing it with people and it absolutely makes my day when people enjoy what I create, but it's almost 100% for fun! 
> 
> I haven't actually written anything for this fic in a couple weeks and am rapidly catching up to myself. I'll be back home next week though! And interviewing for and hopefully getting a job (with doggos!) and having a birthday and hanging out with friends and horses and getting my wisdom teeth out so basically I'll either have way more time to work on this or my life will be insane and I won't. Only time will tell.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading! Drop me a comment if you feel like it! And if you're interested in seeing me sporadically blog my art and posts (currently a lot of httyd because I get hyperfixated but I have no theme and reblog whatever I damn well please) you can follow me on tumblr @squeeb100 or @squeeb-art. 
> 
> Have a FANTASTIC day! And those of you who are currently slogging through finals, I'm right there with you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fathers bond with their adorable children. Dear friends are lost but remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh BOY
> 
> CW: "Major" Character Death. Not a major character but like...a very present character? It's sad okay

Playing was important for hatchlings to learn. The Night Fury knew this. It was hard to remember this Important Fact, however, as his babies leaped and bounced around, grasping and grabbing at him with their many teeth and claws.

 _Get!_ White Nose Hatchling squealed, pouncing on his tail. He felt her teeth wrap around the end, just above his fins, and flopped it about gently, letting her light body fly with it. _Fun fun fun fun fun!_ She chirped, scrabbling at his scales with her little pinprick claws.

 _Fun fun fun,_ he agreed. Being able to play back without hurting the hatchlings made their antics more bearable.

White Nose Hatchling liked to play with her father’s tail more than any other toy; Light Hatchling often followed her sister, but was more hesitant about actually pouncing, remembering one time when she had annoyed the Night Fury and he had snapped his jaws at her in warning. She preferred to sit on the ground and bat at his tailfins as they whisked by.

Night Hatchling was the most daring of the three and enjoyed picking fights not only with other hatchlings, but with mature dragons. The Night Fury and his mate took the hatchlings out occasionally to acquaint them with other species’ babies, but Night Hatchling was more interested in annoying the adults. His father had saved him from an angry Nightmare just in time the day before. Currently, he was prowling around the mouth of the den, watching for a challenger.

White Nose Hatchling dislodged from the Night Fury’s tail and opened her wings to buffer her fall. The hatchlings couldn’t fly yet, but had learned that their wings were good for gliding and used them more and more by the day. She banked right and tumbled into Light Hatchling, who bowled over and lay on her back, clawing and biting at her sister in play.

 _Fight fight get off!_ She growled in her tiny voice, wiggling and scrambling.

 _Fight fight! I’m big, I’m boss!_ White Nose Hatchling insisted, growling and yapping. They tussled and tumbled about on the floor of the den, biting and clawing without leaving any serious marks. Night Hatchling, hearing the commotion, perked his ear flaps up and bounded over, wings slightly unfurled, to join the fray.

The Night Fury huffed and shook himself before standing to stretch, groaning as something tight and coiled inside of him relaxed. He heard a familiar flutter of wings from a distance and perked up his ear flaps, scenting the air for his approaching mate. She smelled like she had been fishing at the old hunting grounds, which were near a human island.

 _Hello hello mate!_ He bugled, bounding to the cave entrance. His sleek white mate descended, bright bioluminescent colors reflecting off her scales.

 _Hello hello,_ she returned, and he backed up to give her room for landing. She shook and ruffled her wings. The hatchlings immediately broke from their tussle (which it appeared White Nose had won, pinning down her sister and gnawing on her neck) and bounded over to their mother eagerly.

 _Food food feed us food hungry we’re hungry!!!_ They chorused, bouncing and weaving between her feet. She snuffled and smiled at them, lowering her head to greet them each with a lick. Once she was satisfied that they were all in order, she squinted her eyes and contracted her stomach to heave up a very large fish, which the hatchlings descended upon with fervor.

 _Big fish, good fish,_ the Night Fury congratulated his mate. _Impressed._

She chirped _thanks_ for the praise and trotted over to brush her cheek against him and rub him with her scent. _Love love love._

 _Love love love,_ he agreed, licking her neck and tasting the salt from the water.

For a while they sat side by side and watched their hatchlings eat. They were interrupted, however, by the arrival of yet another dragon. The Night Fury scented the air and smiled, tail wagging, when he realized who it was.

 _Hello hello old friend, good friend!_ He bobbed his head in excitement and trotted over to the entrance of the den, where his Most Familiar Blue Nadder was perched. Her scent was familiar and calming to him, and she reminded him of Good Feelings and Happy Days. Most of his days were happy now, too, but he knew that he had had many experiences with this Nadder.

His good friend did not mimic his happy greeting, however; her quills looked ruffled and distressed. She hopped about in the mouth of the den, fluttering her wings and squawking.

 _What what? Danger?_ He asked, peering past her to see if an angry flockmate was chasing her.

 _Come come follow,_ she squawked. _Sad sad, old friend._ Something deeply distressing had happened, he knew, and he turned back to his mate to be sure she knew he was leaving. She blinked trust at him with her eyes, encouraging him. The hatchlings had barely noticed the Nadder, they were so occupied with food.

The Night Fury followed his anxious friend deeper into the system of caverns that made up their Home, deeply unsettled by the waves of distress she gave off. They weaved between rock formations and ducked through narrow passages and he wondered what she had to show him.

As they flew, he began to pick the _sad sad sad_ sounds out from the raucous noise which was a constant in their Home. Then he detected it: the smell of Death. As they descended into the cavern the bad sounds and smells were coming from, he realized what was the matter.

 _No no no sad!_ He howled, despair coursing through him as he glided quickly to the side of the lump which had been his Most Familiar Red Nightmare. He nosed and smelled his friend anxiously and could see that his scales were dull, could feel his bones through once-fiery pelt. His spikes were all sad and leaned to the sides as if they were too tired to stand up anymore. _No no no old friend, good friend, no no!_ He cried. _Don’t be dead!_

The Nightmare’s eyes were closed, and the Night Fury could tell that he had died from being old and tired, as all dragons eventually do. He licked his friend’s cold face forlornly. This was another flockmate which he was deeply connected to. He knew him very well and had been through many trials with him. His death was devastating.

 _Sad sad,_ someone sympathized; it was the Most Familiar Gronckle, curled up beside the Nightmare’s head. The Zippleback was here as well, eyes downcast. It was very sad indeed.

The Night Fury pressed against the Nightmare’s chin, murmuring that he was sad, that he would miss him. He curled up on the opposite side to the Gronckle and laid there for a long time, eyes half-closed, mourning with hums and vibrations from deep in his chest.

Eventually he decided it was time to burn the Nightmare. This was how dragons disposed of the dead; it wasn’t good to leave them in the caves, or there would be a bad smell and sometimes sickness. Dragons don’t burn when they are alive, but they do after death, when their scales become a bit dull and less fire-resistant. So they shot him with their fire, all of them; the lava fire from the Gronckle and the bright burning fire from the Nadder and the explosive fire from the Zippleback and the Night Fury, all combining until their old friend burned as brightly as he had in life.

 _Sad sad sad,_ the Night Fury moaned as he pressed his face to the Nadder’s. The Gronckle waddled over and nudged his side anxiously, and the Zippleback craned over him. These were his good friends, his closest flockmates. He loved them almost as dearly as his own mate and hatchlings. They were very sad at the loss of one of their own, and would be for many moons. But the Night Fury knew he had to leave and fly back to his hatchlings, who were very much alive and would need to be fed again soon and it was _his_ turn.

He moaned _regret_ as he left the bright-burning cavern behind, but turned his gaze resolutely toward the ocean, which held food for his hungry hatchlings.

***

“Chickie!” A delighted voice crowed from the vicinity of Snotnut Tower. Moments later, an auburn-haired toddler waddled into view, followed shortly by a heavyset brunette of about four winters. Fluttering away from the pursuers was an ordinary (frightened) brown chicken.

“Chief she…she’s getting the chicken again!” the boy complained, finally catching up to the toddler and restraining her. “A-and Uncle Tuff s-said no more chasing the chickenses!”

“You’re absolutely right, Leglug,” Hiccup agreed, opening his arms to the little girl and successfully distracting her. She wriggled free from her captor’s embrace and trotted to her father, who scooped her up and held her against his right hip. “You heard the man, Zephyr, no more chasing the chickens.” He shook semi-stern finger at the little girl.

“Chickie,” Zephyr mourned, watching her prize hightail it back into the trees.

“It scares the chickies when you chase them, Zeffie,” Hiccup explained. “And it makes Uncle Tuff sad when his chickens are scared. You understand, right?”

“Mhm.” Zephyr stuck her thumb in her mouth and watched covetously as chickens milled about the base of the tower, order restored to their world.

“Where’s your brother, Leg?” Hiccup asked, ruffling the little boy’s brown hair with his free hand. He flinched away, laughing.

“Helpin’ Dada in the libary,” Leglug supplied. “He gets papers to draw.”

“You didn’t wanna draw?” Hiccup shifted Zephyr on his hip as he looked down at the four-year-old, who was staring up at him with wide blue eyes.

“No, I like it outside. I wan-ned to play chase but Toes said no.”

“Ah. It’s hard having nobody your age to play with, huh?”

“All my friends is babies,” the boy agreed seriously.

“Babies!” Zephyr cheered.

“I only got Zeffie and Slipnut and Milkweed and Toes,” he agreed, “an’ those last two don’t count ‘cause they’re my brothers, and Milkweed is only a moon old.” Leglug put a ponderous hand on his chin. The kid cracked Hiccup up—he was so _serious_ all the _time._ He could see where he got it from, but it was amusing, nonetheless.

Zephyr began to wiggle and whine, stretching her fingers out and making grabby hands in the direction of the tower. “Fang, fang, fang,” she demanded, indicating the overlarge statue which stood in front of it.

“Hookfang?” Hiccup asked, and Zephyr crowed in agreement. He put her on the ground and she scampered off toward the stone statue. She craned her neck and stared up in awe at its hulking form, then turned back to Hiccup and Leglug.

“Daddy!” She demanded. “Up!”

“I don’t have a much better view, Zeff,” Hiccup laughed as he walked over, Leglug scampering behind. He scooped his daughter up and placed her on his shoulders, giving her what he hoped was at least a slightly more interesting view of the dragon.

“That’s Hookfang,” Leglug informed either Hiccup or Zephyr or both. He had picked up on his father’s affinity for telling everyone everything, and it was especially painful in a stage during which children already repeated everything they learned. “He’s not that big in real life and he likes to eat cooked fishes. He’s red for real, not gray, and he was Uncle Snotlout’s dragon. He’s real naughty and can light on fire.”

“That’s right, bud,” Hiccup encouraged him, speaking over Zephyr’s chant of ‘fire, fire, fire.’ “And who’s over there?” He pointed to the Zippleback statue peering around the corner of the treehouse.

“That’s Barf and Belch!” Leglug exclaimed. “They’re also naughty, but they’re green and have two heads which argue like me and Toes do. They were Uncle Tuff and Auntie Ruff’s.”

“Auntie Ruff?” Zephyr asked, and Hiccup could feel her looking around for the absent party.

“She’s not here, sweetheart, she’s at her house,” Hiccup explained, patting Zephyr’s leg in acknowledgement. He turned back to Leglug, who was still examining the statue. “You sure know a lot about dragons, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah, mhm. Dada readed me the dragon book. He said you did the pictures. They’re good! I can’t draw that good.”

“I only did some of them,” Hiccup corrected. “And I’ve had a lot of practice, bud, I’m _old!”_

Leglug’s eyes darted about anxiously as he laughed, clearly unsure how to respond. “So I could get good if I practice?” He scuffled his feet in the grass.

“Oh, for sure,” Hiccup agreed, nodding.

“Want Momma,” Zephyr intoned from his shoulders, drumming her feet against his chest and patting his hair. Her arms were too weak for her to do any damage to him, but her hands were…strangely sticky, and they picked up and tugged individual hairs when she lifted them away. “I hungry!”

“She hungry,” Hiccup relayed to Leglug, tilting his head to avoid more patting (it didn’t work). “Which means it’s time for _me_ to head home and get some dinner. Do you want to go back to the library?”

“O-okay!” The boy agreed, trotting along beside them as they walked back toward the center of the village. Zephyr, delighted with her new height, cooed and shifted her weight as she reached out to grab at people and objects.

“Big!” She announced, and Hiccup laughed.

“Yeah, you are!”

Leglug bid them a cheerful goodbye before heading into the library, a small wing on Fishlegs’ house which had recently been renovated to accommodate even _more_ books. He was currently working on transcribing the Book of Dragons so the tribe would have more than one copy, and it was slow going, but it worked. The Book of Dragons was, unfortunately, the only book the Hooligans had ever produced, and selling copies was out of the question (with the dragons safely hidden, spreading information about them would likely just be asking for trouble). This was unfortunate, since Fishlegs would have sold books for a living if he’d had any books to sell and any willing buyers.

The library was a short jaunt from Hiccup and Astrid’s house, which was, unlike the one on Old Berk, built at the same level as everyone else’s homes. Elevating themselves above the rest of the population felt too weird, even though Snotlout had heartily encouraged it—that was, until Snotlout realized that his house was effectively higher than Hiccup’s. The Meade Hall was up the hill, carved into a cliff face, because that was the real center of business and deserved to be high up.

“Hi Sormfye!” Zephyr greeted the dragon statue, then kicked Hiccup’s chest insistently. “Down! Down! Down!”

Hiccup cringed at the beating. “’Kay, ah, Zeffie, don’t kick, it hurts me when you do that,” he told her. He waited until her feet slowed reluctantly before he crouched and allowed her to slide to the ground and toddle over to Stormfly. The life-size Nadder statue was four times her height, if not more, and she reached up at Stormfly’s heavy chin and hopped a little, trying to touch it. “Hi good girl,” she whispered loudly, settling for resting a hand on the statue’s chest before following her grinning father into the house, where Astrid sat at the kitchen table mending a small pair of pants.

“Mommy!” Zephyr shrieked, scampering to the kitchen table and hugging a surprised Astrid’s leg.

“Hi, sweet girl, did you have fun playing?” Astrid asked, lifting their daughter onto her lap and kissing the crown of her head. Zephyr nodded emphatically.

“Played with Leg,” she proclaimed, nuzzling into her mother’s chest.

Hiccup crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Astrid’s forehead. “I thought you were training the kids until late,” he smiled as he pulled away.

“Headache dropped an axe on his foot,” she explained. “I had to take him to Hilde. He’s fine!” She added quickly. “It was the blunt part, thank Thor. I sent the rest of the kids home, and gods know where they are now.”

“Not home,” Hiccup guessed, pulling out a chair and sitting adjacent to his family with a groan. “Did you ask Hilde to check you out while you were over there?”

“I didn’t ask for it, but she did anyway. She said I’m coming along well, though it would be difficult to tell at this point whether anything was wrong. We’re out of the danger zone.” Astrid ruffled Zephyr’s hair as the little one began to squirm. “You have dirt all over your face, my love, did you know that? We’re going to have to take a bath as soon as it’s a little warmer.”

Zephyr’s wiggles immediately intensified, punctuated by cries of protest. Astrid threw her arms wide and wrapped them around her, tickling the girl’s pudgy stomach as she shrieked with glee. “Oh you _have to take a bath,_ yes you do, we need to teach you right before you end up like Uncle Gobber!” Astrid murmured into their daughter’s hair with the same ‘baby voice’ Hiccup would sometimes use toward dragons, and toward Toothless when he’d done something impressive or cute. “Yes! You! Have! To! Bathe!” She relinquished her grip enough to allow Zephyr to escape and slip to the floor, where she scuttled toward her father and hid behind his chair.

When their laughter died down, Hiccup and Astrid’s eyes met and she gave him a meaningful look. _It’s safe to tell her now,_ the look said, and Hiccup grinned.

“Hey, Zeph, c’mere.” He patted his leg and then lifted the tiny girl into his lap when she pattered around to his front. She wiggled a bit, bones digging into his thigh, before she settled in a soft, warm lump. “Remember when Aunt Heather had baby Milkweed?” He asked, and she nodded.

“My baby,” she confirmed. “Mine.”

“Uh-huh, she’s Aunt Heather’s baby, but you love her very much.”

“Mhm.” He couldn’t see Zephyr’s face, but she was easy to read through her voice and body language—relaxed, but paying attention.

“Well, Mommy and I have something to ask you.” Hiccup looked up expectantly at Astrid, who looked predictably annoyed to have the explanation foisted onto her. She did a good job sounding excited anyway.

“I’m going to have a baby, just like Aunt Heather did,” Astrid explained, folding forward a bit in her chair to be at Zephyr’s eye level. Zephyr was silent for a moment, processing. “Do you understand what that means? We’re going to have a new baby in our house, just like Aunt Heather does. And the baby will be your brother or sister.”

“Now?”

“In a few moons,” Hiccup explained. “It will be a long time before the baby comes. But you’ll be able to know when we’re getting close because Mommy is going to get bigger and bigger, just like Aunt Heather did.” He smirked at Astrid over Zephyr’s head. She didn’t look amused. “Do you remember her big tummy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s where the baby comes from,” Astrid explained. Zephyr nodded slowly, clearly not understanding. That was alright; they hadn’t really expected her to. “And in a while, you’ll have a new baby brother or sister.”

After being told a second time, Zephyr processed what that meant. “My baby!” She shouted, bouncing violently in Hiccup’s lap. He made a sound of protest and set her on the ground, where she toddled over to Astrid and faceplanted into her belly. “Hi baby!” She shouted. “What’s your name?”

“The baby can’t answer you yet, sweetie,” Astrid laughed, which did absolutely nothing to dim Zephyr’s enthusiasm as she continued to shout and pat at her stomach.

“That went well,” Hiccup chuckled as Zephyr further examined Astrid’s baby bump. “Fishlegs said his two were less receptive to the idea.”

“They’re older,” Astrid reminded him. “And they already know what a pain a sibling can be.” She looped her arms around Zephyr and hoisted her back into her lap. “Are you hungry, my love?”

“Yes!” Zephyr cheered, energy redirected to a new topic. Hiccup smiled and shook his head as he got to his feet. There hadn’t been a single _dull_ second since Zephyr’s birth, that was for certain, and with a second child on the way (gods willing), the energy level would only increase.

Tossing a glance back over his shoulder at his writhing, dirty daughter and radiant wife, he found he was looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic might have...tone problems...
> 
> Eyyyyy this is later than I usually post but Boy Oh Boy have I had a Day let me tell you what. I'm at the airport right now and have like...2 hours until my flight boards but I spent all morning scampering around with trash and luggage and boxes in the 85 degree heat
> 
> Anyway I keep thinking about when Hookfang lost his fire and someone was like "maybe he's just old" like YEAH maybe he IS just old. The only dragon we have a canon age for is Toothless and we have no idea how long dragons live so in my mind, whatever "old" is for a dragon Hookfang is old. I've decided his behavior isn't Rebellious Teenager, but Grouchy Old Man. My favorite grouch man. Elderly and Ready to Fight You.
> 
> I might have gotten a little too excited about this absolutely inconsequential child I came up with but he insisted on being VERY present in this chapter. Zephyr is also a very happy and excited child but she'll mellow with age. Uhhhhh I don't think I have any other notes except I know the dialogue is a little clunky and I just struggle sometimes but. They can't all be winners. 
> 
> I've caught up with what I had pre-written at this point so the future of this fic is unknown but it seems to be well-received. Again, I write for fun and when I feel driven to do so but if what I make brings other people joy I'm far more likely to continue. So here's the mandatory solicitation of kudos and comments: drop me a few if you feel like it! I'm literally ready to talk about anything with anyone I like to talk a lot I like to write a lot I have many many thoughts about many things and love to share them and hear yours. Let me know a detail you liked! A detail you didn't! Tell me about your day! Literally if I get off this flight tonight and there are Any Sort of Words in my inbox I will be over the moon about it. And if you don't feel like it, you don't have to! This is a no-pressure all-enjoyment-of-dragons household. We come to escape drama.
> 
> Have an excellent week, my lovelies. If you're a student and are done with school like me, I'm so proud! If you're still slogging through finals and various standardized tests like my poor sister, I believe wholeheartedly that you can make it through. Keep pushing! And if you're not a student, you're doing fantastic at whatever you're doing.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: vague descriptions of childbirth, descriptions of animals in distress

The ships in the harbor made him think _humans,_ images of fur-clad two-legs flooding his mind. The emotions which came with this memory were strong and confusing. There was old _fear_ and _anger_ and _fighting_ which rose up first, then squashed down under a tidal wave of _good_ and _love_ and _safe._ There came _protect_ and _avoid_ and _hurt_ and _comfort_ and quick snatches of someone’s face and someone’s voice and then another and another. Some deeply ingrained urge about _put your teeth away_ made him rumble in concern.

He didn’t have time to dwell on these confusing thoughts, however, or to be distracted by the strong human smell (which was familiar _and_ strange) emanating from this side of the island. Deeply curious as he was, he had something Urgent to attend to, and that was the sickeningly familiar alarm call he could hear from the other side of this strange island.

He had followed the sound of his mate’s distress to the old hunting grounds, where he knew she still came for fish. The large fish stayed around the island, giving the humans a berth just wide enough that the dragons always knew where they were. He couldn’t imagine what would bother her so far from the island but perhaps a territorial dispute—however, as he drew closer and closer, he could tell she was _on the island._ This was something which wouldn’t have frightened him under normal circumstances (humans, he knew, were often good and kind but also important to be wary of), but he could hear pain and fear in her cries.

_Help help help hurt danger! Danger!_ Her squalling rose again and he slipped under the forest canopy toward the sound of her voice.

_I’m here, I’m here,_ he warbled, hoping to reassure her. He could smell her sharp fear as he landed and raced through the underbrush to her location. He paused just on the edge of a small clearing, shrinking back into the shadows. It wasn’t Good to run or fly out into the open, especially when one knew there was danger afoot.

There she was, in the center of the clearing, spitting fire at the ground. She scrambled back and ran in a circle, another circle, another circle, but she couldn’t go further than that; the Night Fury glanced about the clearing, listened, smelled, and as soon as he ascertained that there were no other threats, he crept into the open to coo at his mate.

_Hello hello mate? It’s me, I won’t hurt you,_ he warbled, padding over with his head and wings low. She flapped her wings once and greeted him cheerfully, clearly relieved to see that help had come. As soon as he was within the frantic circle she had made she butted up against him. He rumbled and sighed and nickered, thankful to see that she was alive and well. They rubbed against each other, reacquainting themselves with each other’s scents and breathing comforting air into each other’s faces. The Light Fury soon grew restless, however, jolting back to the edge of her circle and whining low in frustration.

The Night Fury crept forward, seeing that she was held in place by her paw which was clamped tight in metal jaws. He knew metal, and he knew that this was unusual metal; it smelled especially sharp, almost like blood, and flaked orange-red dust when disturbed. He wondered what the dust was for, and if the humans had put it there, or if it was something the metal made by itself. From the jaw-clamp (which squished her paw in a way that looked _so painful,_ and he could smell and sense the blood throbbing from the inside-wound) came a metal chain, which extended for less than one fish-length before disappearing into the ground. The chain was what anchored her into the fretful circle she’d worn into the grass.

_Trap,_ he told her, _human trap._

_Hurts, paw hurts, danger,_ she fretted, skirting halfway around her circle. He followed patiently, still smelling at the trap. He had seen traps before—flying rope-traps, lifting rope-traps, domes which snapped shut on fragile wings and legs—but he had never seen a trap like this. Clearly no amount of pulling or firing had worked to set his mate free.

Hesitantly, he placed his jaws around the piece which held her paw. He applied gentle pressure at first, then increased, hoping to break the cruel thing off. His mate yelped and he murmured an apology before changing his angle and biting down again.

He tried many times to bite the trap off, but he couldn’t do so. They fired and gnawed at the chain together but it wouldn’t snap either. His mate resumed her frantic circling, pivoting around the place where the short chain disappeared in the ground. The Night Fury clicked and mumbled in thought.

_Hold still,_ he begged her, and he could tell it cost her great effort to do so. He understood. This island was bad and he wanted nothing more than to run from it, but he couldn’t leave her alone. He had an Idea, though; he nudged at the place where the chain disappeared into the ground, listened to it rattle as his mate’s hurt paw trembled.

The Night Fury flexed his claws and dug them into the grassy soil around the chain, digging determinedly away. Soon the dirt yielded to a metal peg and he huffed in satisfaction as it began to loosen. Once he realized what to do, digging the trap up took no time at all and soon his mate was free to three-legged canter away from her prison.

She roared in appreciation, holding her paw gingerly above the ground. The Night Fury regretted that he couldn’t have freed her foot, but he had at least freed _her_ from this island where the humans were decidedly _bad._ He felt no love or comfort or safety about them, though these feelings, strange as they were, persisted.

They winged off the island immediately, bursting through the trees with yowls of relief and freedom. Only when they were safe in the air did he ask her how she had been trapped on land in the first place. She told him that she had seen something move in the trees and had been curious.

A nagging awareness that his flock was _not safe_ from humans took hold, but he didn’t have the energy to be worried about it with all the love and relief he felt.

***

There was half an eykt of heart-stopping fear during which they had thought both Astrid and the baby to be lost. It had been one thing (a breach birth, Hilde explained breathlessly, the child was literally coming out backwards, feet first) then another (bleeding, she couldn’t stop it, and before the child had been born Astrid had lost consciousness). Hilde had enlisted Gerd to help her deliver the child as quickly and safely as possible—he (he!) had survived, but Astrid was still out.

She’d come to after what felt like an eternity of _I can’t imagine a world without you please don’t go,_ and her first words had been “did you get the damned thing out?” What followed was a long while of Hiccup and Astrid just hugging and touching and reassuring each other while Astrid was forced to eat something, drink something, stay in bed.

“You’re lucky,” Hilde explained. “Don’t leave this bed for at least three days.”

“I was so worried,” Hiccup breathed into Astrid’s neck. “You’re okay,” he told her, reassuring himself. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Astrid murmured back. “I wouldn’t leave you, babe, I love you. I do.”

They were then presented with the child, who was healthy and _loud,_ with Valka’s statement that “He looks just like you did, what a wee thing!” They smiled and cooed at the little boy for a long time before Astrid turned to Hiccup and said: “Zeffie.”

Hiccup turned to Hilde. “Can Zephyr come in? She’s been outside for ages, she’s bound to be worried. She’ll be calm, I promise.”

“She can come in,” Hilde decided, and Hiccup nodded, standing up from his seat beside Astrid. He trotted down the stairs two at a time and threw the front door open to a throng of his friends and their children, who swarmed him before he’d taken a single step.

“She’s alright,” Hiccup nodded, meeting Fishlegs’ eyes, then Snotlout’s, and on past the rest of the crowd. “They’re both alright.”

“Daddy!” Zephyr’s anxious voice came from the cluster of children in front of him. She hopped and reached up with her little arms, asking to be held. Hiccup slipped his hands under her arms and scooped her up against his hip.

“You wanna meet your baby brother?”

Zephyr’s emphatic nod was accompanied with the adults’ cheers and shouts of “brother!” and Hiccup laughed, glancing between his daughter and his exuberant friends.

“What’s he look like?” Tuffnut pressed, forcing himself forward between Heather and Ruffnut.

“Like a baby, mostly.”

“But his hair? Eyes?”

“Does he have your stupid nose?” Ruff chimed in loudly.

“He does, thanks,” Hiccup shot back, quirking one eyebrow. Zephyr tugged on his hair urgently and he brushed her hands away almost without thinking. “He has very fair hair. And we can’t know about the eyes for a little bit.”

The group broke into grins, so happy and stupid that Hiccup would have laughed if he wasn’t sure he wore a matching one. Zephyr prodded him more insistently.

“Can…we hafta go. See brother,” she reminded him in a gentle voice. “Want to see brother!”

“Of course, baby.” He hefted her a little higher on his hip and smiled apologetically to the small crowd. “You all can see him in a bit.”

Zephyr held still on the way up the stairs, seeming unsure about what awaited her at the top. Hiccup pressed a gentle kiss to her hair before setting her down in the bedroom and letting her toddle over to the bed amid fond greetings from Valka, Gerd and Hilde.

“Hi there, love,” Astrid smiled gently, stroking Zephyr’s hair. The bundle pressed against her chest mewled. He was loud and fussy in a way that Zephyr hadn’t been, which Hilde claimed was a sign of good health. “A good, strong chief,” is what she’d said, and Hiccup and Astrid had been too occupied to correct her in the moment.

“Hi, momma. Can I see?”

“Sure, baby.” Astrid cast around the room for a moment. “Go sit in that chair and let your father bring him over.”

Zephyr obeyed willingly, allowing Valka to lift her into the chair. Hiccup leaned over and kissed Astrid on the forehead, whispering “I’m so glad you’re alright.” She smiled, radiant and exhausted, and offered their son to him. He was so light and so fragile and Hiccup couldn’t believe that such a little thing had nearly killed his wife. The baby opened his milky eyes and squinted at Hiccup, as if unsure about what exactly he was seeing; Hiccup looked down at him and grinned as he approached Zephyr.

“Cradle his head with your arm, that’s it, love,” Valka said, helping Hiccup lower the baby into Zephyr’s waiting arms. Her arms remained with the three-year-old’s, for safe measure, and Zephyr stared at her little brother adoringly, grinning with her chin tucked to her chest.

“Hi,” Zephyr started, then paused and looked up at her father. “What’s his name?”

“Nothing yet,” Hiccup smiled. They hadn’t been sure how to warn Zephyr about the dangers that came with birthing or being a baby on Berk, and had decided that they would address a problem if they came to it. There wasn’t any need to worry her unnecessarily, of course. They’d adhered to tradition, though, choosing to avoid naming the child until he grew stronger.

Zephyr smiled. “Nuffink yet,” she repeated, stumbling over the syllables. Hiccup barked a laugh, startling the newborn.

“Nuffink Yet!” Hiccup crowed across the room to Astrid, who rolled her eyes.

“Absolutely not. We are not naming our son Nuffink Yet Haddock.”

“We’ll discuss it,” Hiccup decided, smirking and turning back to his children _(children!)._

“I think it’s sweet,” Valka decided, stroking the child’s head. “It’s not _traditional,_ of course, but—”

“Exactly!” Gerd interrupted. “I say you stick to tradition, Astrid. Give him a good, strong name. Name him after his grandfather! Stoick Haddock the Second, is what I say.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, mom,” Astrid said.

In that moment, the baby released a warbling cry, followed by a few stronger wails. Zephyr looked at her grandmother, at a loss.

“Why’s he sad? I make him mad?” Zephyr asked, worry filling her eyes.

“No, no, love, he’s just hungry. He wants his mother,” Valka reassured her. “May I take him?”

“Mhm.” Zephyr allowed Valka to return the baby to Astrid, who lifted the dark furs she was wrapped in and allowed him access to her chest.

“C’mere, Zeff,” Hiccup invited his daughter, and she entered his arms willingly. He took her to the foot of the bed and sat down, placing his hand over Astrid’s free one as Zephyr burrowed into his chest. The top of the newborn’s head was just visible over the furs, and Hiccup sat and let it sink in that he had a _family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy, this isn't...a day late...Happy uh...Happy F r i d a y
> 
> I sorta broke the parallelism pattern here! There was initially a different first half to this chapter but I've moved it to the next chapter because I wanted it to be more parallel but then I changed the second half of the chapter from sick Astrid to cute fluff so really I just can't win. The first half of this chapter I really like and the second half...feels a little rushy to me, but I think maybe that's just the way it be.
> 
> I was originally going to go with that Nuffink name headcanon that was Hiccup telling Astrid that if she died he'd have "Nothing left to live for" and her being like "yeah you sure will." I don't remember where I saw this but it's not my idea. Then the characters, as usual, just grabbed whatever shitty plot I've cobbled together and ran away with it and Zephyr did her own thing. You might believe I was setting up for this scene two chapters ago. You would be wrong.
> 
> I was watching a YouTube video of a fur trapper who had a coyote in a leg trap and I guess I was like "yes. this is what my disaster fic needs." so that's what you got
> 
> Uhhhhhh nothing else except this chapter was late because I don't have anything written ahead and that may be a recurring situation in weeks to come because Bitch! Got! A! Job! I get to take care of dogs, monitor their play and learn about animal behavior all day every day now in a Loud and Smelly work environment! I'm very excited about it. Oh oof then I get my wisdom teeth out and I may start taking art commissions so really I basically don't know when I'm going to be writing. Bear with me please. And also know that you don't have to read my TMI author's notes because they really are just a lot of unnecessary information aren't they
> 
> Comment about your favorite or least favorite part! Leave kudos if you've read this far and haven't left kudos already (if you've read this far you must be enjoying it at least enough for kudos, I hope?)


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